To Be Stronger
by GummyBears231
Summary: After his fight with Kurt at Scandals Blaine finds himself in an unfamiliar place. After undergoing a traumatic experience his father sends him to Dalton where he meets Sebastian Smythe, the son of Westerville's top rated detective Alan Smythe. Trigger warning: noncon, mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide.
1. Chapter 1

"God please. Don't do this, please, please oh god- fuck- oh-mmphh"

Blaine's mouth is covered by calloused hands. They taste like dirt and sweat. The salt from his tears are coating the exterior of this _thing_ muffling his screams, and fuck this is happening. This can't be happening. No. No. No. No.

"This ones definitely a virgin." The voice is hot and wet; to close to his ear, and Blaine's sure he's going to die. If he had just listened to Kurt, had just… listened instead of storming off to 'walk' home…. God, no. This doesn't happen to people like him. This cant be happening. Why is this happening?

His limbs have long since gone numb with fear, and he's so tired he can barely speak in slurs of 'no's' and 'stop's.' There are two men with him. One holding him upright, hands behind his back, and the other is currently at his front licking his way up Blaine's neck. Blaine _is _a virgin, and the only thing he can think right now is _'this should be Kurt.'_

There's a hardness pressed against his ass, the first he's ever felt, and he's trying to scream- he really is, god he wants to scream- but he can't. There's a hand, and everything's fuzzy from the blow he endured to his head. He's pretty sure he's bleeding, but the wetness dribbling down his cheek could be tears. It doesn't matter. He'll be dead soon. Dead. Dead. Dead.

"Bend him over, yeah, like that. Fuck, look at that ass." There's a slap that permeates through the air and bounces off something around him. He doesn't know where he is, but he's naked and embarrassed…. more frightened than he's ever been in his entire life. He's blind with fear, and when he feels the first finger breach his entrance he blacks out. The tears fall thickly, and when he wakes up the laughter rings loud and crisp around him.

Defeated, trying to ignore the three fingers sliding in and out of him, he whispers hoarsely, "_Please let me go_." Maybe his dad is right. Maybe this is god's way of telling him his choices are wrong.

He'd rather be dead.

The hands are now in his hair, gripping his waist, and there's so many Blaine can barely breathe. What's wrong with him? This isn't what it's supposed to be like. He hates this. Fuck, he hates this.

"Please! Please let-" He doesn't get out another word because he's interrupted by the blunt tip of a stranger pushing slick and hard into his ass.

"So tight, baby, so tight." Blaine screams out in pain. "_Yes_. Fuck."

Everything goes black again. When he wakes up for the second time, he can still feel fingernails pressing into his hips, the pressure of a _different_ stranger filling him up and pulling him back into their body. He's long since run out of tears, and now all he has left are silent sobs and pleas for his life… but he's sure they're all futile.

The man moves faster inside of him, pushing him harshly into the ground. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad, and why is this happening? As the man slaps against his flesh, he tries to escape by thinking of Kurt. It's making it worse. Somewhere he's sure his phone is blinking blue with missed calls and voicemails. _Kurt. Oh god. _Now his wrists are held above him, and the more he struggles to free himself the tighter the other digs his nails into Blaine's skin.

"Shut up, slut, or I'll kill you."

He gasps at the threat, although he knew he was going to die anyway, and the man laughs behind him. No.

"Pull his head up, and show that pretty little face your cock." The stranger directs. Soon Blaine's wrists are free, but the pain that remains there when the second stranger lets go tells Blaine they're both broken. He must look terrified because when his curls are pulled and his face meets the second man's, he can't look Blaine in the eye.

"I bet he loves cock. " says the man behind him, "You were born for this, babe, god I could fuck you forever." Blaine feels the sting of a hand on his ass, and then on his face and before he can look at the second man again his mouth is being stretched and a knife is at his throat and fuck, he's going to die. He's going to die. No. No. No.

The man behind him quickens his pace; with every slap he pushes Blaine forward and the other deeper into his throat. Eventually the movement ceases, filling Blaine with an unfamiliar warmth and fuck he knows what it is and he wishes he didn't… god, why is this happening? Why him? Why now? He wants to be dead. Why isn't he dead?

"So good, baby. You were so good."

Both of the men finish with him, and his hearts beating wildly in his chest. Now what? Is he going to die? Is it going to happen again? He tries to shift his weight, but the pain from the unwanted intrusion forces him to fall back down in agony. A kick to his ribs keeps him planted on the ground, and now his hands are being tied.

The voice is back again. "You're mine now baby. Today's you're lucky day. We've decided to keep you."

Blaine shakes his head, no, and the men laugh. He's spoken to as if he were a pet, and fuck he'd rather die than be here. He'd rather die than live with these memories. "No. Please! I'll do anything. Just let me go, please let me go, I'm-"

"Shut up!" A metal object collides with his face. He's sure it's a gun, but he's too afraid to open his eyes. Blaine continues to struggle, and the object meets his face again. Maybe if he struggles enough he'll see darkness again. Blaine's never prayed harder to die in his life. The last thought he thinks before he blacks out for the third time is that he'll never see Kurt again. He should've stayed with Kurt. He should've stayed with Kurt. He should've-


	2. Chapter 2

"-gaaAAAHHH!"

He wakes up with a start, literally shooting out of his bed and stumbling across the floor before he falls onto his knees with another scream. His face is covered in sweat, the curls knocked loose from sleep are plastered across his face, and he can barely breathe because his heart is racing so wildly inside his chest. Blaine doesn't realize where he is until the panicked voices from the hallway reach his locked door.

_I'm in my room. I'm in my room. This is where I live. I sleep here. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm… I'm, I'm fine. Blaine, you're fine. _

He chokes out, "I'm fine! Just a dream!" But it's too quiet to be heard above the knocking. There are four hands rapping on the wooden frame now, and he wishes them away, unable to speak again in fear of never catching his breath.

Part of him wishes he wouldn't. That he would just choke on his surroundings and fade back into the darkness that saved him during his suffering.

"Blaine! Sweetie! Blaine, open the door honey." The voices turn to whispers, but everything is so still- it _is _one am, Blaine thinks- and he can hear every hushed syllable his parents try to hide from him through the wall.

"_Cath I think it's time to look at alternate solutions, he's not- he's not getting any better. _How dare you! We're not sending our baby away. We can't, Michael, I can't lose him again. _Cath, we'll lose him if he stays here. He needs to get out, out of Lima. _Sending him away won't solve the problem! I can't lose him again. I won't. _Dalton's safer than McKinley! He hasn't been to school in weeks! Maybe a little scenery change will help him get past- _I said no, Michael._ Cath you can't keep doing this! You're preventing him from- _I'm preventing him from being attacked agai- Oh! Blaine!"

Blaine opens the door, eyes wet with frustration and torment. He's panting from the panic attack he's just had, and his mother's giving him a look. His eyes say, _'Don't.'_

Blaine wipes the curls out of his eyes, and looks at his father.

"What's Dalton?"

* * *

He's convinced himself to smile again. Well, sort of. It feels more like invisible tape is stretched around his head, and if he wants people to leave him alone it moves, pulling his lips into a straight line instead of a frown. The only thing keeping him from imploding is the little piece of paper currently clutched into the palms of his hands.

It reads:

_Dear Blaine, _

_Congratulations! The admissions selection committee here at the Dalton Academy School for Boys would like to extend you an invitation to join our community for the forthcoming spring semester!-_

Below the paragraph that encourages him to accept his scholarly duty, and take the next step in shaping his life- okay, he _really_ smiles at that. How cheesy can this place be?- there's a name.

Sebastian Smythe.

He hasn't had much contact with the outside world since his attack, let alone teenage boys, and he's a little afraid to start that part of his life again. He wonders what his new roommate is like, but not for too long because _those _thoughts always lead back to McKinley… to Kurt.

Blaine lets out a sigh and stuffs the paper securely into his desk drawer. He finds it then, a picture of the Blaine he used to be. The old Blaine is smiling, hands grabbing the wrists of a familiar face. They're hugging one another, Kurt from behind, and he grips the frame a little tighter as if he's making a statement.

The picture finds itself in the trash, along with everything that reminds Blaine of his 'past' life. His cell phone doesn't make the cut though. Blaine may think that throwing away pictures and mementos can rid him of those horrible memories, but in reality… he's still hoping they'll call.

They won't.

_He _won't.

Not anymore… Blaine's parents had made sure of _that_.

* * *

_Friday, 10:50pm "Blaine Anderson, you're lucky I love you because I've chosen to forgive you! You're welcome, by the way. Where are you? I'll come pick you up so we can talk. Call me."_

_Friday, 10:53pm "Answer the phonnnneeee!"_

_Friday, 11:20pm "Blaine, listen, I'm sorry we fought. Call me. Please answer you're phone so you can tell me where you are. It's getting late, and I'm getting worried. Love you."_

_Friday, 11:46pm "Blaine, I've called you like… a million times. I'm starting to think you might not be okay. Call me back before I do something stupid like call the cops…. I love you."_

_Friday, 11:58pm "I called your parents. They said you haven't gotten home yet. I've driven around this stupid bar so many times I'm getting dizzy... we…. we found your tie, and- Please call me back…. God, please be okay."_

_Saturday, 12:06am "Answer your phone, please… please answer your phone."_

_Wednesday, 3:00pm "Hey, Blaine. I… I heard you're back. Call me, okay? I love… just… call me, okay?"_

_Wednesday, 6:00pm "Blaine, I need to hear your voice, anything. Something so I can believe you're okay. All of this is my fault. Please call me. We need to talk."_

_Thursday, 1:00pm "You probably won't hear this. Your parents stopped by today... They said- Ugh… I'm probably just talking to myself right now…. stupidstupidstupid. I miss you. I… I just, miss you. Goodbye Blaine."_

* * *

He'd deleted every single message, but he'd listened to them so many times they'd find him in dreams. Serving as constant reminders of how many people he'd disappointed since the attack.

His father had promised him that Dalton would fix these feelings. That'd he would be able to make himself better again. Blaine wanted to believe him, but until he got there… until he met his classmates and put on the blazer, until he stopped having nightmares and met this… _Sebastian_ guy…. He wasn't sure if making himself better was possible.

He hoped it was.

He needed it to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Dalton, as it turns out, is not what Blaine is expecting it to be. What he's expecting from an all boys boarding school is beyond him, but he's grateful for the surprise. The magnificent brick walls and staggering height of iron gates say '_safe_', and there's something old creeping into his stomach. He won't acknowledge it yet, but it's there.

The invisible tape 'smiles.'

As painful as it is to give his father credit, this place is nothing like McKinley, not even close, and it's _that _circumstance which lands Blaine his first real glimpse of hope. It's refreshing to be on the cusp of believing he can move on. Exhausting too.

It's his first day with an inventive start, and Blaine Anderson – the now gel-less, blazer clad, shell of what once was a human being- is practicing his camouflage techniques. He wants to test this place out before he decides who the new Blaine is going to be, but soon he'll realize he won't get the chance.

Blaine's knees are halfway to giving out when joins his orientation group. With each step he has to breathe in reminder that no one knows, but his efforts are unsuccessful and he's breathless by the time he reaches the wall of transfer students. It's a tiny group and he's the last one to arrive, so he shrinks to the back.

The tour begins with a general history of Dalton and a quick round of icebreakers. Blaine is fourth to go, mind too frantic to pick up what the others are saying, and he decides to give up. He simply doesn't know three interesting facts about himself.

_Hell_, Blaine can barely remember his name right now! All eyes are glued on him, so he closes his eyes and blurts out he can sing. It comes out a little to loud, which cues a jump, and before he peaks out from long lashes the woman takes his hint. She diverts the group's attention to Dalton's music program, and works from there.

A couple kids laugh, but he's mostly forgotten by the time someone else starts talking. He doesn't feel like they've forgotten though, and when he finally looks up from his shoes, Blaine catches a tiny flash of green from across their circle.

It darts to flash elsewhere but returns rather quickly. It's reading him, feeding him relaxants. Blaine can't decide whether or not to return the smile that's appeared on the other's face. He's interrupted by fingers pressing lightly into his shoulder. Blaine is frozen. Suddenly that warmth in his stomach is turning to flames and he's feeling shaky and scared.

"Look at that _ass_." A voice, whispered, comes from his left. It points to their tour guide, a blonde with long legs and a Dalton blazer- similar to but not quite the same as the one Blaine's currently clutching at his chest.

How does he respond? Why is he being touched? Blaine's gay, is this kid assuming he's straight because he doesn't accept the alternative? His hands begin to tremor slightly, triggered from the thought. Blaine's gone white at the knuckles trying to suppress it, and all glimpses of '_safe'_ fly out the window.

Dalton is proving anything but.

"_Bend him over, yeah, like that. Fuck, look at that ass." Blaine's panicking. NoNoNoNoNO. Sensory memories initiate the 'slap' and he can still feel the fingers burning hot across his skin before they-_

"No!" A few people glance back, and he feels crimson flood his cheeks. "S-sorry." Blaine looks at the ground. _I'm not even good at being invisible,_ he thinks.

"Whoa dude, I was just paying homage to a natural work of art." Blaine's trying not to make eye contact, but an overgrown Mohawk is in his way now and it's sporting a concerned look. "I mean, I like Monet, but if you're more of a… _Picasso_ kind of guy…" The stranger winks, "That's cool too."

Memory free, Blaine hints at a smile, and the Mohawk is patting his shoulder again. This time more friendly than threatening, and '_safe'_ is once again in the cards.

Part of him enjoys the warmth that springs full and lush into his chest upon immediate acceptance, and the other half is hoping he can live up to these peoples' expectations… because all Blaine needs is one more excuse to let go, and he'll make sure he's never valued interesting again.

That's what got him into this mess in the first place, isn't it?

"Gentlemen. Everything alright over here?"

The two of them break contact, and now the Mohawk is jumping on someone taller. Someone stronger. The resemblance is striking, and Blaine's positive- even before the other looks- that he's host to those comforting eyes.

This time, when the stranger reaches out to shake his hand and Blaine sees a familiar flash of green, he reciprocates the smile immediately.

"Blaine..." He breathes, "Anderson- Blaine Anderson."

Their hands meet and Blaine feels currents shoot through their palms. So it's not just his eyes. This kid is electric.

"Nice to meet you, Blaine Anderson." Beside him the Mohawk is laughing. It earns him a _whack_ and the stranger turns back around to face value, "Sebastian Smythe."


	4. Chapter 4

The three of them spend the rest of their tour chatting quietly behind the other students. Well, Sebastian and his friend do most of the talking. Blaine tries his hand at escaping. His plans are foiled once Puck- owner of said Mohawk- finds out that Sebastian and Blaine are roommates.

"No way! Welcome to the brotherhood, man!"

All kinds of lewd comments spill out of that boy's mouth, and Blaine ducks his head with every accusation. These guys are definitely... _out there_, but they've kind of claimed Blaine as their own and he's not sure how to say no. Scratch that, he _does_ know how, but his negatives haven't been perceived very well in the past… so he keeps quiet.

Puck keeps grabbing at his back, and each point of contact shoots millions of needles deep into Blaine's skin. The boy fails to notice how it's affecting Blaine, and before the smaller can shy away he feels a heavy arm wrap around his shoulders. Blaine looks to Sebastian for help, but it seems the embrace has swallowed him too.

Blaine tells himself he's fine about fifty times, but Puck's taken it too far and he absolutely needs an out. The last thing he wants to do is cry in front of his new friends, but how does he explain his need to be untouched?

His need to be like he was before…

Sebastian looks murderous, his body is rigid with tension, and thankfully Puck shuts up and lets both of them go. He anchors his lip into a pout, but Sebastian rolls his eyes along with his shoulders and diverts his attention to a glassy eyed Blaine.

And then Blaine's on fire.

He resists the urge to look away, opening his mouth to say something, _anything_, but all words are lost to the wind. He can't help it. He just feels so small under Sebastian's gaze. It's probably because he's been alone for so long. Blaine was afraid this was going to happen.

Sebastian studies him a bit longer, and goes back to Puck. He pauses there too it seems, deep in thought, and turns back to Blaine with determination on his face. "You should join the Warblers."

Blaine's eyes go wide at the invitation so he takes a moment to understand the invitation. Why are these guys being so nice to him? He takes a careful step back.

"Don't worry, if you suck I'm always available for private lessons."

Grateful for his offer, but completely missing the innuendo, Blaine gives a questionable nod. "…Sure." He's not positive what he's just agreed to, but he has avoided confrontation for the time being, so he holds back his opinions. It's not like they matter much anyway, and he wants to blend in so badly he's willing to give anything a shot. So, he keeps his mouth shut and tries to ignore how worn out he is.

Blaine is proud of himself for socializing. He hadn't seen himself agreeing to do _anything_ with his classmates, yet here he is, day one and already sinking into routine. There's something there in Sebastian, though, a ghost image of '_okay_' and maybe if Blaine sticks around long enough, he'll be lucky enough to find it.

Or… maybe he's horrible at reading people and everything about these guys is flashing red and shooing him away, but he's being naïve and- Blaine gets control of his thoughts. _You're fine_. He repeats. _You're fine. You're fine. You're fine._

Sebastian doesn't say anything else; he just turns up his lips, and stares straight ahead. So Blaine does the same, and longs for his bed.

The three of them finish the tour, and eventually Puck sneaks away with an incoming freshman. Sebastian awkwardly explains how they had crashed orientation to meet fresh faces. He tells Sebastian that wanting to make new friends is always acceptable, and he shouldn't be embarrassed. Sebastian laughs.

Although Blaine and Sebastian are alone, the silence doesn't suffocate, and Blaine keeps himself busy by taking in his surroundings. Every now and then he'll look over and Sebastian will be flashing him green, and by the time they arrive at their dorm Blaine's ready to pass out.

He takes about ten seconds to survey Sebastian's side of the room, and even less time to look at his. He knows his side is void of any belongings, so there's not much to absorb. Sebastian's side, however, is littered with mismatched sheets, dirty clothes, and pictures of Paris.

Blaine wants to tell Sebastian il parle francais, but his bed is looking _really _comfortable and before Blaine can even think another word he's snatched his covers from the closet and coiled up carefully on top of his mattress.

He'd previously thought that being alone with someone would shatter his carefully constructed comfort zone, but part of him is grateful for the company right now. He hasn't been alone with anyone other than his parents since the attack, and it's strangely comforting to witness other people existing.

It gives him the courage to do it too.

Blaine fights against closing his eyes, because he's dreading what he knows awaits. He wonders if Sebastian ever has nightmares, and then Blaine's feels incredibly uncomfortable because what if he has one tonight? Who is he kidding? He _always_ has them… Sebastian's going to hate him, he solemnly decides.

"It's weird…" Sebastian says, not looking up from his computer, "sharing my room."

"_Our _room." Blaine corrects.

He accidentally gives Sebastian an unforgiving look, but shuts it down as soon as he's aware of it. The look was supposed to be an inward gesture, and although he feels bad, Blaine _does_ find the mistake a little funny. Sebastian must have caught it though, because he's looking a little offended. His reaction makes it funnier, and Blaine bites back a laugh. He has an inkling that Sebastian isn't on the receiving end of _those _kinds of looks often.

"Whatever. I was just saying it's weird."

Blaine sits up and shrugs. He's curious how Sebastian utilized this space in the fall, but he's sure he'll find out soon enough. Old habits die hard, right?

The two of them enter another stretch of silence, but ten minutes in Blaine starts to fidget. He's afraid of falling asleep before Sebastian so he spends the next interval of time checking on his new friend, glancing over his shoulder to make sure everything is still safe.

Blaine's way too obvious in his attempts to spy, because every time he chooses to steal a look Sebastian is smirking back, his head cocked to the side in silent accusation.

The third time he's caught, Sebastian winks, and Blaine's immediately engulfed in humiliation. He's disgusted with his behavior, and all Blaine wants to do is sink indefinitely into his mattress and hide from the wave of mortification enveloping his entire body.

He stops glancing.

Eventually Sebastian tires of whatever game their playing, and he flings himself confidently off of his bed. He takes his shirt off in the process, and turns his back on Blaine.

Blaine can't tell, but he's pretty sure Sebastian's smiling from the way his cheeks are raised against the white of their wall. Then it hits him. Sebastian is getting undressed. Sebastian is getting undressed and they're alone, what if? Oh god, what if?

"W-what are you doing?" Blaine stammers, a million dangerous thoughts coming to life all at once. He wants to get past this unwarranted paranoia, but he's weak so he settles with asking questions.

"Changing?" Sebastian disputes with sarcasm. Blaine decides to remain voiceless as he memorizes the freckles on Sebastian's back. Months from now he might be able to joke about his phone being set to 911, but not today. He's frightened and realizing this, perhaps out of discomfort, Sebastian teases, "Like what you see, gorgeous?"

Blaine hates that he can't control his embarrassment. His face is painted red within seconds, and he chokes on any form of reply. He's frozen once more… _exhausted_ and frozen. He's gone back and forth enough today, and Blaine's starting to think he's set the bar to high for himself again.

"What?" Sebastian says shortly. "Playing hard to get?" He falters on his last sentence, and Blaine knows it's because he's turned around. He's sure the look on his face is unmistakable, because Blaine feels utterly insignificant right now.

"Sebastian." He warns darkly. There are about a million things he wants to scream, but he doesn't know where to begin. The brunette waits to hear what Blaine has to say, but he's too flustered to continue.

When the air clears Sebastian tries to redirect the conversation. "Loosen up, it's not like I'm trying to fuck you." At that moment Sebastian gets a text, and after typing a short reply he looks up with a smirk. "Speaking of… Duty calls."

His green eyes are guarded for a moment. They say something that his words do not, but Blaine can't figure it out, so instead he waits for Sebastian to close the door and stuffs his head under his pillow to scream.

He's pathetic.

He's worthless, dirty, and used.

These are the thoughts Blaine eventually falls asleep to. They welcome him triumphantly into a deep restless chain of self-degradation- what else is new- and for the millionth time since the incident, Blaine wakes up aware of a scream, and although he can't feel himself doing it, he's sure it's his own.


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTE:** Oh my gosh, sorry for the delay in updating! I have a bunch of people visiting from out of state this month! Forgive me, everyone! It'll take me a little bit to get back into the writing style I had, but the next chapter fits in perfectly. Thanks for being patient!

* * *

It's exactly six AM.

Blaine knows because he's been up for an hour already. It's been a week since school began, and he's quickly learning that his roommate is a big fan of sleepovers. He shoots a look to the empty side of their room. How does he do that? Doesn't it bother Sebastian that he has a bad reputation?

Blaine shrugs it off and continues staring at his reflection in the mirror. At least Sebastian doesn't have to wake up to his stupid nightmares all the time. He lets out a little laugh, trying to find humor in his humiliation.

The first time it had happened Sebastian screamed too, he thought they were being attacked and fell out of bed. Blaine was bright red with embarrassment, and after explaining it was a nightmare Sebastian muttered some gibberish and flopped back into his mattress.

Sebastian's a heavy sleeper, so Blaine wasn't sure whether he remembered it or not, but the next morning as Blaine found himself on the receiving end of a million bitch glares he knew Sebastian had.

If looks could kill…

In a sad way it reminds Blaine of Kurt. How he'd glare when Blaine did something embarrassing, only to kiss it all away in the protection of darkness after school. He missed those exhilarating moments, tucked tightly in the corners of McKinley's locker rooms, kissing feverishly as Finn's football practice took place, faint echoes of screaming fans in the background.

Sometimes Blaine felt like he was too careful now. He felt boring and blank, and today- he adjusts his tie in the mirror- today he's going to conquer that.

All thanks to Sebastian.

He and Sebastian haven't exactly hit it off, let alone had any resemblance of a deep conversation, and although he's feeling uneasy about everything a small part of him still claims 'safe' somewhere in the other's presence.

Today, after seventh period honors English, Blaine Anderson will officially be a Dalton Academy Warbler.

He smiles cheekily at himself, scanning the red piping of his blazer, and turns to his side of the room with a yawn. He's decorated now. A plush blue bedspread with matching pillows, small books ranging from travel to biology to randoms he'd found at old bookstores are nestled carefully on his shelves. Everything's neat, well organized. Even the little structures of art on his desk are placed strategically, but he likes it that way. It's… comfortable.

Sebastian had teased him, messing everything up one night while Blaine took a walk on Dalton grounds, but when he'd seen Blaine's panic upon discovery of change he'd apologized and fixed it immediately. Like a child being caught for playing with his parents belongings.

"Nervous?"

A voice startles him into reality.

"Hey Sebastian."

The taller walks up from behind and grins through the mirror. "You'll be great. They've seen what you can do, and I pulled a few strings with Wes so you're pretty much in."

"Oh." Blaine's genuinely surprised. The lack of conversation between them had led Blaine to believe they weren't even friends, let alone friends who pull favors for one another. 'Thanks Sebastian, that was really nice of you."

"Yeah. It was, wasn't it?" He teases.

Blaine rolls his eyes.

Seventh period comes and goes and Blaine's ruined the ends of his sleeves from nerves. Sebastian was right though. They didn't even ask him to audition before accepting him into the group. Having lost at Sectionals the Warblers are done for the year, so Wes- the elected leader- explains how they use meeting times for planning and playing catch up with one another.

As Wes gives updates on new rules and what groups are still in the running for Nationals this year, Blaine looks around the room. There are large leather couches that swallow up most of whoever sits on them, paintings of Dalton's forefathers and old Warbler montages. Blaine feels like he's in a cigar lounge, and as he rounds out to where other members of the group are sitting he catches that green again.

They both look away, but when Blaine tries to focus on what Wes is saying he knows Sebastian's looking again. He side eyes back, and tilts his head in question. The other nods an, 'I told you so' before crossing his arms and looking back at Wes.

For the rest of the meeting Blaine doesn't leave Sebastian's side. He finds comfort in the difference of height, the familiar scent, and Sebastian doesn't work to shy away either. He stands protectively upright, eyes flashing warning signs at Puck any time he tries to roughhouse.

It's comical, and Blaine feels like he's part of something again. He thanks Sebastian later when they get back to their room.

"Huh?"

"I just said, um. Thanks. For having my back and everything today. Helping me get in."

Sebastian doesn't look up, "Yeah."

Blaine's caught off guard. Sebastian always gets so quiet and strange when they're alone, and he takes a deep breath before breaching his comfort zone.

"You're different around me."

It sounds accusatory, and really? He needs to get a handle on himself, because aggressive is something he certainly is _not_. Sebastian swallows and puts down his French book. He says nothing so Blaine continues.

"You know, why is that?" He struggles, "We're roommates, aren't we supposed to get to know one another?"

"We aren't _supposed_ to do anything if we don't want to. Not that I don't want to know you- I mean. I… like the silence?"

Sebastian looks confused at his answer.

"C'mon, just tell me one thing about you."

The other considers Blaine's suggestion for a moment and scoots so that his legs hang off the end of his bed.

"Do I get to ask a question in return?"

"Sure."

"Fine. I was pretending to study just now," he gestures at his book, 'my parents are divorced and my mom lives in Paris. I'm fluent, but I take French so I can get an easy A, and hook up with struggling classmates."

Blaine laughs at the brevity of his statement, trying to ignore the sexual admission. It's like cheating Dalton is nothing to Sebastian, like he's done it countless times and isn't ashamed. He'd glossed over the divorce so maybe that's something he doesn't want to talk about, but his mother lives in Paris? Does he visit often? Blaine is about to strike up a conversation about the city of love when Sebastian buts in with his question.

"My turn." His face turns serious, like he's breaking a rule, "Why'd you transfer to Dalton?"

"Um." Blaine falters.

Sebastian doesn't blink, like if he makes one wrong movement everything will explode. Blaine listens to the sound of his breathing as he tries to think up lies, but in the end he doesn't have the heart so he treads around the question.

"I needed a fresh start?" He didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but that was why he came here wasn't it? "You're right. I kind of like silence too, and I actually need to study my French, so."

Blaine clears his throat, and steals Sebastian's book. The other looks relieved. Like he'd been hanging on every word Blaine had to offer. Blaine probably would've been rendered uncomfortable by the expression, had he not been caught up in evading the question.

He flips through chapter eight, memorizing vocabulary while Sebastian finds other things in the room to occupy himself with. He should probably have a story worked out, anyway. The Warblers are bound to ask questions eventually, aren't they?

So why _did_ he transfer? For a fresh start?

Sure.

He needed a more challenging environment?

Better, but lacking.

In the end Blaine gives up. He dozes off somewhere in-between how to plan a party and how to ask for directions, fully clothed, and unknowing if Sebastian will stay the night he gives himself up to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

"-gaaAAAHHH!"

Blaine wakes up sweaty and clinging to his pillow for support. His body feels too alert and vulnerable for his environment, and out of the corner of his eye he watches a blur of tanned skin fly straight into the ground with a loud _THUMP. _Recognizing what's going on he takes three even breathes.

_In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. _

_I'm in my room. _

_I'm fine and I'm in my room._

His heart is racing at the surprise of additional movement and sound, but he calms down a little when he hears who is cursing and moving around on the floor.

"-Just fucking bought this stuff-"

"Sebastian?" Blaine's bundled tight in his covers, and is peering over the frame of his bed. The question is not expected, so Sebastian jumps at the sound of his voice and smacks his head directly on Blaine's bedpost.

"Ow!"

Blaine's thinking this is a strange way to wake up, and when he makes eye contact with Sebastian- who's mumbling about concussions and body wash- he realizes he's not the only one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

His roommate is wearing thin pajama pants, slung low on his waist, and from where Blaine's sitting he can see the damp fabric clinging to his hips. His hair is still wet, probably from the shower he's just come back from, and after looking at the clock Blaine assesses that it's roughly 6:30 in the morning.

He just wants one night of peace. It's looking like he'll never get it.

"-ho needs an alarm clock when they've got Jillian _freaking_ Michaels over here, _Christ-_"

The smell of fresh pine and cinnamon invades his senses all at once. It reminds Blaine of Christmas, so he shuffles closer to the edge of his bed and watches the thin figure scoop handfuls of blue slime off of the floor.

Blaine's mind is catching up to speed with the situation, but he's too tired to deal with it. He lays back down ignoring what's bound to be a stain and blocks out the insults traversing from the semi-stranger's mouth.

When Sebastian finally stands he doesn't look happy.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asks, cracking open his eyes to assess his accidental damage. He shifts his body to uncomfortably pull out the French book from underneath his back, but doesn't gesture to give it back. Instead he tries to figure out when he fell asleep last night.

Sebastian stops rubbing his head and speaks very seriously.

"This," the other holds up a cracked container, "is _your _fault." Sebastian's frown is supposed to be accusatory, but it's more humorous than anything and Blaine raises an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You scared the shit out of me, Blaine!" he shouts, causing Blaine to flinch from the strength of his voice. Sebastian's obviously not a morning person, and the bags under his eyes tell Blaine his insults aren't personal.

Still, Blaine thinks, he's just had a nightmare and yelling at him for something he can't control isn't the best way to remedy the situation. "I just bought this yesterday, and now it's all over the floor!" Sebastian pouts, tossing the half empty container into the nearest wastebasket.

"I'll buy you a new one," Blaine says apologetically, "I'm sorry."

"Not good enough."

"I- I don't-"

He feels like he's negotiating with a three year old, and because today is requiring so much energy already, all Blaine wants to do is fall back asleep. Sebastian must be tired too, because he half gives up on their qualm, sinking back onto his bed and spreading his arms across the covers.

There's still a little bit of unspoken tension between them from the night before, and much to Blaine's surprise Sebastian's the first to apologize. "Sorry. I'm Sorry… I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." The other rubs his face and inhales deeply.

"…Tell me about it." Blaine remarks, referencing his constant state of anxiety-ridden sleep. Sarcasm is something Blaine has been working on bringing back into his life, and he feels a surge of satisfaction that he's using it to develop a friendship.

But when Sebastian jumps into his stream of consciousness, Blaine loses that confidence. "Dane invited me over after you passed out, and I think I'm in _love_. Blaine he's like, the man of my _dreams_." Sebastian, still spread out over his bed, grins with his eyes closed, "I swear to God, his mouth! He practically jumped me when I walked in the... door- ohh.." he slows down, quietly realizing what Blaine had _actually_ meant, "-hh shit. My bad."

"…Blaine?"

Blaine blinks.

He has a smile plastered on his face, but maybe it's not convincing enough because Sebastian's sitting upright now, adjusting his bottoms, and he looks concerned. "Sure. Yeah." Blaine mumbles, but it doesn't fit in with the conversation, and his insides are swirling around furiously trying to find reason for all this to be okay.

He hates that his body does this.

Blaine wants nothing more than to live the life he had before he was ruined, but every crude mention of sex crosses his boundaries, and all these new surroundings have sharpened his edges.

Why did Sebastian want to be used like that? Why did he use other people? Blaine didn't want to be used when they took his- but he didn't deserve what he got. Did Sebastian? No, Blaine thinks, no one deserves that.

Maybe Sebastian doesn't think sex is a big deal? Blaine feels phantom hands grabbing at his body. _No. _He was stupid for leaving Kurt at the bar. _No! _His father was right. Being gay was wrong and-

"One sec, okay? Give me one sec. _Sebastian_, vous etes stupide!" Sebastian scrambles out of bed in a flurry, and Blaine's not sure how much time has passed but soon enough he's joined cautiously at his bedside by another body.

Blaine curls himself tighter into his covers. _He_ feels like the three year old now, and what makes it worse is that Sebastian has no idea why he's reacting the way he is. It's the last thing Blaine wants to explain to his roommate of so little time, and the embarrassment is hindering any ability to speak. Finally, the smell of Sebastian's body wash wafting from the carpet grabs Blaine's attention.

"Sorry… I don't know why- Sorry."

Blaine shakes his head again, and avoids the green reading into him. He reminds himself that Sebastian means no harm, that he'd just misinterpreted a silly attempt at sarcasm. That's all this is, Blaine thinks. Sebastian reaches out to touch his shoulder, but second-guesses, redirecting his hand to grab the textbook instead.

"Ooookay. Well." He stands, slapping his knees in the process, "We'll just pretend this…" he gestures around the room, "never happened." There's a thoughtful pause and then he continues quickly, "Except for the stain. _That's_ still your fault… You can enjoy getting off to my smell for the rest of the semester, " he winks apprehensively, trying to conceal the awkward tension between them. "Sound good?"

Blaine shifts a little and decides to spare a laugh for the other's sake. It calms Sebastian down a little, but Blaine can tell it isn't enough. Talk about role reversal. Sebastian doesn't strike Blaine as the kind of person who needs comforting, or any kind of approval-and perhaps he isn't- but he starts rambling and Blaine wonders if he was wrong.

"-Not good at cleaning, that's what maids are for, so you'll have to deal with it but put something over it because the last thing I want is to bring a guy over here and there's a mystery stain-"

Blaine's surprised Sebastian can still breathe, and when he finally finishes his tirade he stops abruptly to look at Blaine, pink spreading up from his neck to his ears.

Blaine's able to give him another reassuring smile, so the other tosses his French book on his bed, grabs his lacrosse bag, and backs out towards the door. When had he gotten dressed?

"So. Right. See you, uh, later."

He's not exactly sure what just happened, but Sebastian looks frustrated with himself as he leaves the room. Blaine hears him mutter, "_Stupide_!" again before the door softly clicks and he's alone inhaling the scent of Christmas.

Great.

Leave it to Dalton to pair him with the strangest person on campus.

_Could've been Puck_, Blaine thinks as he rolls over and has a second go with sleep.

It's a weekend, so Blaine doesn't leave his room until he needs sustenance. He doesn't feel like facing classmates today so he avoids the cafeteria. He chooses his lunch wisely, settling on a bag of Doritos and bottled water from the vending machine down the hallway. He's trailing his fingers along the cool surface of the wall when he sees Sebastian leaning against their doorframe, sun kissed and sweaty from his lacrosse practice.

He looks agitated and is holding his phone tight against his ear.

"Yeah, no dad, I haven't- yes. I know. I _know_, okay? I said I wouldn't. I haven't- _Christ-_ Why don't you come down here and check then if you don't believe me? Sorry, no, I didn't mean- ugh! _No_, I just meant that I'm not a babysi- what? I haven't- Fine. Yeah, yeah… Not like it's anything new. Yeah, whatever, bye."

Sebastian hangs up and brings a hand to his head as if he's trying to squeeze away the conversation. Blaine feels weird watching him so he approaches with his Doritos and strikes up a conversation. He ignores the way Sebastian's shirt sticks to his shoulders.

"Hey."

Blaine barely speaks over a whisper. He'd just remembered Kurt. That happens a lot around his roommate, and forgetting about the phone call he tries again to deal with all his unresolved memories.

"Please tell me you didn't just hear that?"

Sebastian wipes the hair from his eyes, and straightens out his shirt. He's dripping sweat from practice, and his blue jersey and red numbered double zero are darkened from the moisture. They're close enough that Blaine can smell Sebastian's natural scent. It's much different than Christmas, he notes, but it's definitely _him._

Blaine's stomach flips. What is he even doing? It's barely been over a month since the attack and as far as he's concerned he'll never be a worthwhile investment. Why would anyone want someone damaged like him? Not that he wants Sebastian- they're just friends- it's that Blaine doesn't want to be a forgettable sleepover- he doesn't want to be worn as a second-hand toy. Used like a ragdoll and lost the dregs of someone's memory.

Blaine looks at his feet.

Like those men did.

He scratches the back of his neck, and continues looking at the ground ignoring Sebastian's look of concern.

"Um, the end part." He fidgets, looking down at his water as if the label suddenly interests him, "What were you guys fighting about?"

"My dad has a tendency to doubt what people are capable of." There's a double meaning, but Blaine doesn't have the strength to pry. He's caught up in memories of Kurt and violence, clawing his way back to the present from within.

"Oh."

"He thinks everyone's just one click away from losing their shit and pulling a Britney Spears."

Blaine imagines himself cutting off all of his curls. Tear streaked and desperate for change. It's absurd, and he hopes he never reaches rock bottom like that. Maybe he already has though, and losing the gel was his way of shaving his head.

_You're fine. You're fine. You're fine. _

He shakes away the doubts, and refocuses on the present. His chest feels tight, and his hands get a little shaky. "Why's-" He swallows, "Why's that?"

"He's a cop." Sebastian says bluntly, pocketing his phone.

Blaine looks up, crossing his arms, "Makes sense."

Blaine still remembers the last cop he spoketo. The pictures they took, the examinations, the tests… Lima's police station feels continents away now, and he doesn't ever want to go back. He'll have to eventually, to identify his assailants. Blaine knows that, but he doesn't want to think about it anymore. He's found a new home, a place to be free from the bad, and he keeps dirtying it by remembering these- these _horrible_ things.

Dalton's supposed to make him better.

He's wearing the blazer; he's met his classmates. He's met Sebastian too. Shouldn't that be enough? Isn't all of this enough to help him forget? Apparently not.

Sebastian picks up that Blaine's mind is elsewhere. He opens their door dramatically, mocking a gentleman, and gestures for the shorter to enter. "After you, prince charming." His distraction works, and Blaine's smiling again.

"Better watch out." Blaine teases, avoiding his feelings, "You're dad is right! I might go a-wall and break your lacrosse stick while you sleep!" Sebastian feigns concern, and Blaine looks up at him quietly.

Then he shouts, "Boo!" Blaine raises his arms and crooks his fingers out in odd angles as he passes while reaching for Sebastian's bag.

The other cracks up and swats him away, wearing a childlike smile, the one that reminds Blaine of Kurt's. Sebastian picks up his bag and runs through the door after Blaine. Replying too late, "Stop it!"

Blaine's glad the tension is gone, and he pops open his Doritos while Sebastian plays with his computer. He can make this work, he thinks. _Don't be the victim. Dalton is your home. _That old feeling is back- and again he ignores it- but that warm swirl in the pit of his stomach is calling to him, and Blaine knows it will win out eventually.

He's just not ready to let it yet.


	7. Chapter 7

He's not sure why, but tonight his seclusion is really overwhelming him. He's made efforts since he got here to make things better, but it's moments such as these in which he thinks he's not doing enough.

He has friends in the Warblers. Wes, Puck, Sebastian… but there's still a part of him that feels empty. He hopes he doesn't feel that way forever. It _has_ been over a month since he started here, the crisp nights of January are long past, and settling in isn't an excuse anymore.

Blaine's finished his homework ages ago. He feels the blood rush to his head-a side effect from lying upside down- while he runs his fingers over the fibers of his and Sebastian's dorm room carpet.

It's a rough foundation, and the dizziness from his current position is starting to make him feel sick. Sebastian left for his lacrosse scrimmage not long ago, and Blaine's willing to bet that he wouldn't be very happy if he came back to witness another stain on the floor.

Blaine smiles as he pictures Sebastian trying to calm himself down. Like when Dane- Sebastian's favorite 'teammate'- stood him up for one of their dates, and he waited in the rain for an hour. Blaine had had to play him three songs on the piano in the Warblers lounge before he would even pretend to feel better for Blaine's sake.

Blaine doesn't like when Sebastian gets angry, but he _does_ like how he, and apparently he alone, can get him to smile again. Puck had slipped Blaine that info during their last rehearsal, when Wes had chosen Nick instead of Sebastian for a solo. Sebastian was all frowns and mumbles, and Puck couldn't even make him laugh with the most vulgar of innuendos. '_Looks like you're up!'_ Puck whispered. Blaine only rolled his eyes, but ever since then Blaine couldn't deny that Puck was right.

It's definitely a welcoming distraction from his own thoughts, cheering his roommate up, and also a gentle reminder that it's possible for him to be happy again too.

Maybe Sebastian had placed a ghost image of 'okay' in his eyes also. How weird to think that Hazel could be as comforting as green.

Blaine's _really_ dizzy now, so he decides it's time to relieve his head of some pressure. He slides off the bed and lays flat on the floor, ignoring the flashing sensation of a cool metal barrel placed flat against his forehead. Shirtless, he brings his arms in a crossed position beneath his chin and inhales.

Christmas.

What on Earth is he going to do for two more nights before school picks up again? He checks his watch. He can wander around Dalton's campus and hide himself in the library only so often before it drives him crazy. So, screw it, why not? Sebastian _did _say he needed to get out more. Puck had even attested to that.

He shoots off the ground and fishes blindly for a shirt to wear as the blood starts funneling back to the correct parts of his body. He settles on a purple button up to match his olive skin, and accessorizes with a black and white pinstriped bowtie. It feels good to dress up, he thinks. He turns sideways to make sure his waist looks right, and runs his fingers over the swell of his ass.

He frowns, inwardly scrutinizing himself for wanting to look good. He does, but he bites his lip anyway, wondering if Sebastian will make fun of his outfit. Sebastian's only seen him dress up once before, a week prior, and it didn't go so well. Blaine had been Skyping with his mother, and he'd barely been able to get him quiet enough to hear her.

He'd had to drown out Sebastian's tiny snickers and jests about being a Ken doll with forced laughter and fake smiles. His mom bought the charade. She was always a fairly clueless person, but as soon as he'd hung up he'd made sure his roommate received the nastiest look he could muster. Not before removing his bowtie, though.

Coming back from his musings, Blaine takes a deep breath. He's surprised he's still tan considering he barely ventures outside the walls of his comfortable prison. That's what Sebastian and Puck call it, but Blaine isn't sure he feels that way. Dalton, day to day, continuously proves it's 'safe,' just like his dad promised. It's safe and comfortable, and Blaine likes it that way.

Maybe if the boys spent a day at McKinley they would appreciate it more.

Literally shaking away his negative thoughts, Blaine checks his appearance once more and heads out the corridor to Dalton's lacrosse field.

It's colder than he expected and small goose pimples crawl across his flesh. He's never been to a lacrosse game so as soon as he finds Dalton's bleachers he makes a quick decision to scan the crowd.

There are tons of people there. Parents, girlfriends, friends- all clad in Dalton red and blue. The other team, he discovers, is purple and white.

_Shit._

Humiliated he heads to Dalton's side anyway, positive he'll receive Sebastian's joke now, and plops down next to a stern looking man and what appears to be his son.

"On the wrong side, kid?"

Blaine jumps a little- partially from the sting of cold against his thighs, and partially because he knows the voice addressing him. He doesn't say anything as he scans his brain for its face.

The man recognizes him too, and for a moment they sit in silent anxiety before he breaks the tension. "Who're you here to see?"

_Sebastian._ Blaine thinks, _your son. _He smiles awkwardly, and bites his lip, chancing a small look at Sebastian's brother. They look alike, chestnut hair and green eyes, but Blaine can tell they're totally different. There's nothing he can read into, so he replies quietly, "My- uhm. My friend."

He wasn't supposed to run into his old life in a place like this. Detective Alan Smythe, he remembers, Westerville's finest.

He'd come down to question Blaine in Lima after the attack. His mother had requested it incase the men had chosen to flee. They hadn't found them yet, and the squad wanted all their bases covered should there be a repeat incident.

Blaine shivers and covers his arms tightly across his chest. Sebastian's dad. He plays with the sound of it for a little before he decides to come clean. "I'm here to see Sebastian, actually."

Detective Smythe doesn't even flinch. He just nods at Blaine, taking the hint, and alludes to the fact that he's heard good things about him from their son. "Sea Bass says he has yet to be late for a class," the old man laughs. "Heard you wake up pretty early."

"Oh," Blaine fidgets, "yeah, sorry, I guess I'm an early riser."

As soon as he realizes what he's said his eyes go wide, and Detective Smythe is smothering himself in laughter. Blaine swallows the dread, and looks down at his crossed arms, tapping his feet on the bleachers below.

Sebastian's brother, Adrien, tells Blaine that his number is 00, like he's never seen Sebastian come home from a practice or looked at the million pictures of his teammates spread around their room.

Blaine smiles, and says 'thanks' he'll keep a lookout.

He doesn't speak to them for the rest of the game. Dalton wins but Blaine can't find it in himself to celebrate. He figures it's okay to look disappointed, what with him wearing purple and all.

He's about to leave the bleachers, lost in blurs of blues and reds, when Sebastian's dad pulls him aside.

"He doesn't know." The man rushes out in a soft voice.

Blaine nods.

The pinch in his stomach lightens up, and soon enough they're graced with Sebastian himself. He's wearing a funny look- Blaine decides it's because of his attire- but Sebastian's excited from their victory and he rushes forward to hug him, lifting Blaine off the ground and he shouts, "We won!"

Blaine's eyebrows are above his head because Sebastian has never breached his comfort zone before. It doesn't feel wrong though, so he laughs nervously until his feet reach the ground again. Detective Smythe watches carefully behind them, his second son distracted by the cheerleaders.

As soon as Sebastian realizes what he's done, he backs away, flushed and muttering an apology. Then he replaces his concern with a smirk, and says they need to do something about that shirt.

Blaine hears 'gay dinosaur' and before he can retort Adrien apologizes. "He's joking." He says monotone, while glancing back at the cheer stand. An arm shoots out in front of a pouting Sebastian, "It's an unfortunate by product from our dad here. So how do you know Bas?" Adrien looks back at Blaine, a knowing look in his eyes.

It makes Blaine uneasy. "Roommate." Blaine blurts, much like when he told his orientation group he liked to sing. He slaps his hand over his mouth as if it will muffle the projected sound and Adrien laughs, nods, and turns back to hear Sebastian recount the game.

Blaine takes that as his cue to leave, so he slips behind the bleachers and practically runs back to his 'prison.' He decides against going back to the rooms because he's not sure if he can pretend everything's fine right now.

Sebastian's dad _would_ be a freaking detective. Why hadn't he put it together by now? Sebastian had even told him that his father was a cop. Mr. Smythe had met Blaine during the most humiliating period of his life. He'd seen pictures! He'd heard Blaine sob! _Oh god. He's seen me cry. He's seen- his dad __**knows**__._ Blaine shakes his head as if the movement will erase the situation. He does that a lot these days.

'_He doesn't know.'_

What if Sebastian did? What if that's the reason he had been so accommodating, and not so much to anyone else. What if Sebastian thinks Blaine is just as pathetic as he feels? He balls up his fists and tightens them against his sides.

He thinks of Sebastian's green eyes, and for the first time they make him feel sick. How is he going to face the brunette at their Warblers rehearsal this week? They _always_ stick together. How is he going to be able to look Sebastian in the eyes and pretend like everything is alright?

The worst part about it is that Blaine has no one to talk to. No one knows what he's been through here, and at this moment-as Blaine stuffs himself into a leather couch near the commons- he wishes harder than ever before for a chance to speak to Kurt.

_One day, _he thinks, _he can't be silent forever._


	8. Chapter 8

He'd agreed to get coffee the second the text request came his way. It'd felt like ages since he'd seen him so he practically raced to the Lima Bean, tugging on a red sweater as he left his house.

Kurt's recounting the New Directions trip to New York with such sincerity, with such maturity and ease, that Blaine is simply getting lost in his words. He's lucky. So lucky to have someone who actually cares enough to talk simple truths with him.

He likes, no, he _loves_ seeing the raw side of this person. The side Kurt's shown to no one but him. Blaine feels special, but a pang of abandonment fills his chest. _Huh?_

"I love you." Blaine spurts out, one hand under his chin and one resting on the table. He doesn't even kick himself for word vomiting because he's lost in the moment, his eyes trained on Kurt's mouth.

It hurts so much.

Kurt quirks an eyebrow, setting his coffee cup back on the table. There's a pause as he swallows the warmth of his non-fat mocha, "_Mmm_. I love you too, _Sebastian._"

Kurt delivers his last line breathless, and smiles at Blaine like he's revealing something dirty. Blaine, confused, looks back at his boyfriend.

"I'm- I'm Blaine!" Doesn't he remember? Doesn't Kurt remember him at all? "This is about us!"

God, it hurts.

Kurt pushes off of Blaine from the backseat of his car. Blaine is embarrassed. He's had too much to drink. He reaches out knowing his arms will remain empty.

"That's right! It's about us! Which is why I don't want to do it on a night you spent half the night dancing with another guy! And that you're sober enough to remember it the next day!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" Blaine rumbles, eyes dark, and suddenly full of rage. Kurt had just called him Sebastian; after all, there was no need to shout! There was no need to cause a scene in the middle of- how'd they get here?

"Because I've never felt _less _like being intimate with someone, and either you can't tell or you just don't care!"

He does care! Blaine decides to get out of there. He needs air. He needs time to berate himself for ruining the night, for ruining such a good thing. He always does that! He always ruins everything! Blaine starts to walk away, tie undone, and hair disheveled.

"Where are you going?"

_Don't let me leave; I'm so sorry I've let you down. I never want to let you down! _Instead he scoffs, because part of him is tired of being sorry all the time. Sorry for being gay, sorry for screwing up, sorry for- sorry for living!

Stupid Kurt.

"I'm sorry if I'm trying to be spontaneous and fun!" Kurt says nothing. He crooks up the side of his mouth instead. Blaine gets angry at his reaction. _This isn't how it happened_. Kurt's expression dares him to leave, he tilts his head and his eyes grow wide, twinkling dangerously.

'_Mmm._ I love you too_, Sebastian.'_

"I'm just gonna walk home!" Blaine shouts.

Kurt smiles and breaks into wicked laughter. _Stop it! _His face distorts and begins morphing into something dark, something scary. Blaine feels the blood quicken in his chest, and adrenaline shoot to his head. His heart is pounding, racing, Kurt's red eyes bore into his, he opens his mouth and his teeth are bloody and sharp.

They're back in the Lima Bean.

Blaine scoots back in his chair at the rapid change in scenery.

"Uh, K-Kurt?"

He holds on tight to his coffee, to tight, and pops the lid off while he scoots away, eyes trained on his boyfriend.

"_S-Sebastian, yes. YES." _Kurt's pale hands go up to stroke his neck, and press hard emitting a groan. _This isn't funny. This was never funny, Kurt, stop it!_

Kurt laughs, his voice turning a demonic shade. He stands up, towering over Blaine's body, and Blaine starts to scream as he stumbles back falling onto the floor. When he falls he keeps falling. Kurt's face stares at him while he falls into blackness, while he falls into the rough hands of a stranger.

Rough callused hands scratch at his sides, squeezing, squeezing... "KURT!" he tries to scream, but nothing will come out!

Blaine's eyes open within seconds. His body is tense, oversensitive, he can feel dried streaks of tears on his face, and the sweat on his brow indicates 'nightmare.' His fists are balled tight, a common reaction he has to stress, and he takes a moment to consider his dream. He doesn't want to dwell, though. Dwelling makes it worse. He pushes the dream to the back of his mind, and caps it there for another day. For another time and place.

"_Fuck. So good."_

Blaine snaps up faster than lightening, and squints into the dark. He tries to figure out when he had fallen asleep, but the voice makes him panic. He's realizes he's still in the lounge when a moan vibrates in his ears. It's followed by small little smacks, licks, wet flesh on wet flesh.

"_Taste so good, Sebastian. Got to fuck me. Got to-"_

"Sebastian?!"

Crap, had he said that out loud?

The sounds abruptly stop. Blaine hears shallow whispering, and then out of the shadows a figure approaches to find out who's called his name. Blaine sits up straighter, staring into the dark over the back of the couch, and drops his mouth as the boy approaches.

"Blaine? What are _you _doing here?" His speech is slightly slurred. Sebastian adjusts his pants, and laughs into his free hand. "Did you come for the show? I'd invite you to join, but Dane here's a little possessive of his treats. Well," Sebastian frowns, "when he decides to show up or whatever."

All Blaine can do is focus on how out of element his roommate is. He knows Sebastian does this. It's, his… _thing. _It's no secret that he fools around sometimes, but Sebastian's very obviously drunk, and still hard through his not so high up sweatpants, and Blaine is shocked that he's in the same room experiencing these antics right now.

He tears his eyes off of Sebastian's body, and stumbles to his feet avoiding eye contact. "Shit, Seb. What the hell?" Blaine rubs at the bridge of his nose, backing up.

"Dane, come meet Blaine!" He says a little louder than necessary, motioning into the black behind him. "Hah, 'rhymes. Look, look," he gestures, "it's Blaine!" Sebastian shuffles a little closer so that Blaine can see his bronze skin light up under the picture of nightfall.

_The moon must be close tonight_, Blaine thinks, _bright_, before backing away again, just like in his dream. "Dane! I said c'mere." Sebastian whines, laughing right after like he can't believe it. "Thought you were in the room." He says offhandedly, a little quieter.

A second figure walks out of the dark and crosses his arms across his chest. His half unbuttoned shirt is put on mismatched so that one side hangs lower than the other. Dane, Sebastian's apparent 'date' for the night, is _not _happy. The two of them must have come here expecting an abandoned room to celebrate their victory.

"Hi." Dane deadpans.

"Uh, hi." Blaine responds sheepishly, not looking back. "I'm. I'm gonna get back to the room. It's late, so." He backs towards the door feeling the awkward crawl through his arms and stomach. He trips over a music stand, cursing as he flies to the ground.

For a second he remembers Sebastian's blur of skin falling after a scream. He shakes it off. Sebastian cracks up and watches, drunk, as Dane tries to steal his attention back. Sebastian squirms in Dane's arms, trying to get closer to Blaine, but Dane holds him back. Kissing. Sucking. Soon he's distracted, and he whirls around to kiss his date back.

As soon as Blaine gets up he marches to the door, throws himself through it, and leans back against the cool marble pillar stationed outside the room.

… And he starts laughing.

It's hysterical and uncontrolled laughter. He knows he is being too loud, but he can't help the sounds escaping his body. A tear slides down his crinkled cheek, and he wipes it away, snorting in an attempt to quiet down. _What the hell?_

When he's all laughed out, he heads for his room, preparing a million jabs for tomorrow morning- Afternoon? - Night? - Whenever he sees his roommate next.

He puts his hands in his pockets while he thinks about Sebastian reaching towards him; he knows the gesture all to well, and makes his way to their room. He climbs in bed, still shook up from the day's events, and falls asleep inhaling Sebastian's scent.

* * *

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mhm. Sure."

"I don't, and I won't any time soon so stop-"

"-Warbler Blaine, Warbler Sebastian! Please stop arguing for a second, and contribute to the conversation at hand!"

Blaine hears the room still from Wes's sudden outburst. Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest, brooding, as Blaine sits comfortably close, smiling at Wes.

Although awkward, Blaine is glad he had the distraction of waking up to that mess. The week is going by quicker now that he's able to take his mind off of Sebastian's father, and he's been replacing his worry with silly little walls.

They're tiny distractions he can use to blunt the pain when hazel finds green, and for that he's thankful.

Now, when he looks at his roommate, he sees surprise and drunken slurs of _'Look, it's Blaine!' _It's better than nausea, so he focuses on that night instead of that evening, trying not to register that that evening had been, well, what it had been.

He smiles harder.

"Great, lets continue. David, what do you think?"

"I think we should throw it off campus this year, shake things up."

Murmuring fills the room as Wes pounds his gavel three times on the hardwood table. "Order! David- Order! We _can't_ throw it off campus. It's Warbler tradition that every year it happens _here. _Why else would it be called 'The Bougie"? He says matter-of-factly.

Laughter erupts in circles around Blaine. He hates to admit it, but he has no idea what they're talking about. Sebastian ends up being too grumpy to explain, probably from lack of sleep, so Puck fills him in.

'The Bougie', he learns, is a Warbler tradition. Every year, around the same time before Nationals come about, the Warblers throw a party. It only happens if they don't make the competition because it requires the remainder of their club budget, and it's apparently very, _very_, wild.

Puck explains how they make it as high class as possible. They drink the finest champagnes and liquors, and wear tuxedos and ties. Drinking and dancing takes over until their eyes roll back in their heads, and thus- the Warblers bond over their failure to impress the judges, and hope for a better outcome next year.

Blaine doesn't see the appeal. Last time he drank, it ended badly, but he chooses to amuse Puck with questions and 'Oh's to appease him... for the time being at least.

"What about here?" Nick shouts, rising above his friends' voices to get to Wes.

"That. Just might work, actually." Considered their leader.

"There aren't any teachers in this quarter, Puck has the keys, and what's classier than a lounge room? We could spend more money on the booze, and less on decorations."

The room erupts. "Order! Order!" Wes pounds on the hardwood. "All those in favor of throwing The Bougie in here say 'aye.'"

Everyone says "Aye." except Sebastian.

Blaine knows it's because the brunette is tired, so he doesn't nitpick. Instead, he turns to his fellow Warbler and nudges his side, "Should be fun. Maybe you should invite Dane? He likes this room well enough, doesn't he?"

For the briefest of seconds, Sebastian smiles, but just as fast he's back to frowning, "Don't know what you're talking about."

Puck claps Blaine on the back and shares in his laughter. For the first time since he's arrived, Blaine sincerely appreciates his friendship. Blaine claps him back.

The meeting wears on, some of the boys leave to do their homework or gather Intel for their big night, but Sebastian and Blaine stay put, watching the television mindlessly with some of their friends; sitting close enough for their legs to stick.

Puck flips through Dalton's basic cable, and stops on a local news channel. It's good background television, he says, as he recounts last years Bougie when Sebastian had been caught in their dorm room with a handle of goldschlager and two freshmen.

"This year we've got to protect Sebastian's virtue." Puck teases.

Blaine listens intently, trying to picture the golden expression Sebastian must have been sporting when he was caught. "That _was _a good one," Sebastian interjects. Blaine notes that he must be coming out of his mood, when a beep comes from the television in front of them. Nick hushes them and turns up the report as breaking news blinks across the screen in red.

Blaine almost passes out.

"From Lima to Westerville Ohio, it seems violence against gays remains the quiet but brutal result of life. Annie DeLane is live at Saint Ann's hospital where a vigil may be held later tonight."

Blaine's fists start shaking, so he tucks them under his thighs. Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath as all eyes flick from the television to where they sit on the couch.

"Yes, it's 7 o clock here tonight at Saint Ann's hospital where a man- who's name has yet to be released by local authorities- has been committed and placed in critical condition while his attackers roam free. This appears to be the second homophobic attack in the past two months, leading local authorities to believe it will not be the last." The news reporter, a woman in her thirties with black hair, turns back to look at the hospital lights dramatically. "About an hour ago, this man was brutally beaten, forced victim of a hate crime," she paused to stare into the camera lense, "and left for dead. With me is Carrie Highland, Carrie?"

"Hello, Annie-"

The two women expand the story; essentially describing the same thing Blaine had gone through, only revealing this man- still unnamed- had the word 'Fag' carved into his forehead with a hunting knife.

_They must be perfecting their techniques_, Blaine thinks, before his train of thought is broken by Sebastian's shaky voice. "Turn it off." He demands bluntly. When no one moves he stands up angrily, and shuts it off himself.

It gets uncomfortably quiet, and the taller comes back and sits next to Blaine. They exchange a look; Sebastian looks scared for a moment and then gains his composure. He and Blaine are the only two homosexual students in the room, and none of their friends can seem to find words for them.

"Jesus." Says Wes.

"-Fucked up." Mentions David.

Soon, the Warblers find themselves hostage to political conversations about progressive movements and human rights. Puck shares valuable viewpoints about ignorance and where tolerance comes from, it's the first time Blaine's heard Puck sound so serious, and Sebastian nods his head in approval at the sudden intellect.

Blaine's been quiet this whole time, so when eyes start to wonder his way, expecting an opinion, he feels how he did at orientation. He has nothing to say, except that he's terrified. Terrified of them coming for him, terrified of someone finding out what they did- how they ruined his life. He can't possibly have an opinion that's worth sharing.

Blaine digs deep, searching for a line of comfort or understanding. He chokes on his fears, clearing his throat. In that moment he is full of dizzying rage. This shouldn't have happened again! How could the police let this happen?

Why couldn't they find those men? Blaine grits his teeth, and contributes to the conversation. He hisses, "You think it'd be easy for them to find a guy with a tattoo covering half his face!"

Everyone goes silent.

Blaine, realizing what he's said, holds his breath. He looks around frantically for any sign that the report actually mentioned that confidential information. He doesn't find any. _No, you idiot! No!_

"Dude, I don't think they said anything about that." Puck contorts his face trying to understand, when Sebastian steps in. Blaine's fighting back tears, trying to think of ways he can leave without them noticing his screw up. He looks to the floor, completely embracing his self-hatred. He's dirty. Disgusting. Now everyone will know how worthless he is. _No._

"That was something else, B." Blaine notes the gentle nickname, and glances up. "From a different story, I think." Sebastian pauses, gathering composure as the Warblers look to him for reassurance.

"O-oh. Right." He responds.

"Yeah, yeah that armed robbery one we saw yesterday. Remember?"

Sebastian flashes him green, and Blaine takes a deep breath, reveling in the comfort that comes from within.

"Right." He shakes his head and smiles, acting like he's made a small mistake. "Sorry, I guess I mixed them up. That's. That's uh, god. I can't believe someone would do this is all. You're right David, it's- it's _messed_ up."

With the conversation saved, Blaine excuses himself and staggers out into the hallway. He feels like his knees are about to give out and like his stomach will explode at the same time.

He's so disoriented with internal dispute that he cant remember where the bathrooms are, and so he leans up against the same marble pillar he did days prior, closing his eyes to try and calm himself down, and will himself not to throw up.

They're free. Those men are free, and they're going to find him. Blaine's breath hitches as he realizes he's probably going to die. He was never going to live. Maybe they'd set him free to mess with him. Maybe all of this was a game to them, and all this time they'd been watching him. Waiting for him to slip into routine and smile again so they can take it all away. Just to carve 'fag' in his forehead, and what? Kill him? _What else do I have to give? _

Blaine feels desperate. He swallows and wipes his forehead clean of sweat. When he feels a small tap behind him he jumps out of his skin, ripping his shoulder from underneath Sebastian's touch. The other steps back as Blaine turns away, face hot, and feeling jittery.

Sebastian had covered for him. He knows he should play nice, but he can't help but question the other's motives. Had Detective Smythe lied? Does Sebastian know? That night, when Blaine had overheard their phone call, was Sebastian implying he wasn't _Blaine's _babysitter?

The anger funnels back, and winds it's way into Blaine's speech. "Why'd you do that?" He snaps.

"What happened in there? You okay?"

Blaine's not sure how to respond. If he accuses Sebastian and the other truly doesn't know, then he's spoiled himself. He unclenches and clenches his fingers, not knowing what to do. He never knows what to do anymore! He's so- so- stupidly weak.

Blaine slides down the pillar and places his hands in his palms. He begins to tear up. He doesn't quite let himself cry, but he goes numb, not wanting to deal with his life anymore.

"Oh shit. Blaine? Blaine!" Sebastian leans down and lifts him off the floor, throwing an arm around him to help him stand. Blaine doesn't even see where they're going. He barely recognizes that his own arm slips around Sebastian's waist as he's brought back to their dorm room, unaware and mind completely blank.

He's given some bottled water in time, and the two of them remain silent as the nights events settle in. Sebastian sits across from him on the opposite side of the room, and Blaine appreciates the space.

He takes a sip, wipes at his eyes, and stares blankly at Sebastian.

"Hey B," Sebastian's eyes are trained on his chest, stretching and reaching though him searching for answers, "I think it's time we talked about those nightmares."

He knows.

"W-what about them?" Blaine stammers, unsure of what exactly is about to happen.

"I saw it lying on his desk." Sebastian downcasts his eyes, and picks at his fingers. Blaine is a little confused until Sebastian continues. "The report I mean. I- I'm so sorry, Blaine. I should have said something, but-"

Blaine swallows the pressure in his throat. He's getting dizzy just thinking about it.

"You're so strong, you know that?" Sebastian's eyes light up, and he makes sure Blaine is listening before he continues, "My dad doesn't know that I read it. He kept telling me to watch out for you, because you were a transfer and- _shit_. _Stupide_, _Sebastian_." He palms at his forehead trying to find the right words.

"That's why you asked about my transfer, isn't it?"

Those green eyes shine 'Yes.'

"I- My dads always telling me to be careful and that you're new so you need help making friends or whatever- and I knew what he was really saying, Blaine, but- I don't think there's a reason for you to be treated like a delicate flower because."

He rubs at the base of his neck, uncomfortable that Blaine hasn't stopped staring.

"You're- what happened, the- the, uh, _attack_-" He mutters. Blaine flinches, not liking how it sounds out loud. "It doesn't define who you are. You're still, _Blaine_. You know? I was just trying to find out who that was." He pauses and stops fiddling with his fingers, "You're so strong." He repeats, a cracked whisper.

"I want to be." Blaine admits, not feeling very worthy of any type of tribute. The warm swirl returns to the pit of his stomach, calling out, pulling at Blaine to tell him this is his chance. He's eerily aware of himself, of Sebastian, of everything in the room. Even the air feels thick as he swallows it down.

"To be what?" Sebastian asks, knowing what Blaine meant.

He exhales, speaking low, eyes shining.

"To be stronger."


	9. Chapter 9

**NOTE: **This is a little bit of a filler chapter, but it's necessary for plot. Might rework it slightly later, but I wanted to post so I could get to the next chapter. Thank you all so much for following this, and reviewing for me. It makes my day when I get those little "TBS has a new review" e-mails :] I love the Seblaine community!

* * *

Blaine is sitting at his desk absentmindedly chewing on the top of his pen. His feet are slack underneath his desk, stretching out below a classmate's in front of him.

He's been working on it, being stronger, because he's sick of being miserable.

He's sick of laying in the dark wishing his life had been different. Blaine is so tired- _so _tired- of walking into a room and thinking of ways to disappear, so he's figuring things out. Even if he's not exactly sure what he should be 'figuring.'

He was doing fine before, he supposes, but now that there's a reminder those monsters are still out there and they're waiting for an opportunity to strike again, he can't- he just, _can't _anymore.

Sebastian's been helping him with it. It's those little things that build him up, making him believe recovery is possible, and Blaine is grateful to have such a close friend.

Sebastian talks him through the nightmares now, staying up with him when he's afraid to fall asleep, but Blaine's positive it won't last long. With March arriving in a few weeks Sebastian's lacrosse schedule will pick up considerably, so all Blaine has is a head full of words and a heart full of sand. He's digging deeper these days, but still coming up short.

He hopes that he'll discover that bravery _sooner_ rather than later.

"_You're safe here, B. My dad's the best detective in all Ohio, and he's got a paycheck to prove it." Sebastian accompanies it with some kind of suggestive wink. Blaine can never understand what that boy is thinking, so he nods. "Either that or my mom's not as big of a parasitic opportunist as I thought." He shrugs, "Whatever, you get what I'm trying to say."_

"_I know." Blaine replies, staring into the black of their room. Even though he'd rather be staring into green. "Thanks."_

Blaine wants to believe him. He's always found, _something_, in his voice- his actions, but Blaine's stuck because _they're_ _free_. Those men are out there, right now, doing god knows what- planning more attacks, planning to ruin _more _lives, and the police don't even have a lead!

He'd know if they did, wouldn't he? Wouldn't Sebastian?

'_He doesn't know.'_

Blaine feels his stomach go into knots, very briefly, before he calms himself down. Sebastian's still talking to him, even though he- _knows_, so he has no reason to worry about that anymore.

Sebastian doesn't make him feel worthless or juvenile, he makes him feel like, _Blaine. _Maybe that's why he's been able to stay decently calm as days stretch into nights and nights into day.

His life at Dalton hasbeen much easier since he and Sebastian had their talk- Blaine stops chewing, hoping he hasn't jinxed himself- but he still feels like something's coming. He can feel it in his bones. Deep down in his very core, like a slowly approaching storm keeping him nimble on his feet.

It's telling him to prepare for the worst.

Hasn't that already happened, though? Blaine has a multitude of loose ends as it is- old dreams of New Directions, of Kurt. _Sebastian_ knows, Blaine's spent hours explaining his dreams, but he won't share his opinions.

They sit in the dark together, and listen to the fan. _Whack, whack, whack, _as Blaine mulls over _why _he's scared and what he can't get past. Sebastian says those dreams are something Blaine needs to figure out on his own, but maybe Sebastian's troubled about what he might find there.

Blaine knows _he _is.

He's been working on listening to himself lately. His mind has been so frantic that he's been too impatient to untangle his thoughts. Sebastian says that Blaine needs to learn how to climb over his walls, but what exactly are they made out of?

"_You're still, Blaine. You know? I was just trying to find out who that was."_

Blaine wants to show him, bad, to prove that he's past it and feel like the Blaine he used to be. He misses that thrum of energy constantly flowing inside him. This want is more than that, it's a need, and he knows he'll get there. It's a just a matter of when, if not how, it will happen.

He wants to be normal again.

Sebastian says he _is_ normal, said he's strong- Blaine starts chewing again- so what's standing in his way of accepting that? It's easier to smile now, around his new friends and sometimes when he's alone, but he's nervous.

He's scared to enjoy it to long, because what if it's taken away? Like- like his- _God... _He's having a hard time finding a silver lining. Blaine settles on the notion that he's broken. He's gotten pretty good at giving up, hasn't he?

It's risky when Blaine lets himself get lost in thought like this, even though it's imperative to his recovery, and just as he remembers that moving on means forgiving yourself and getting out of your past, he hears his name crisp and clear from across the classroom in the present.

"Mr. Anderson!" it trills, "You're here, but are you awake? Hellloooo? Anyone in there?"

"Sor-sorry Miss Holiday."

He hears snickering from behind him. Without delay, the random guffaws from unnamed students send red to his cheeks. Blaine goes back to focusing on self-reparation. Can he actually make it happen? How can he make nice with himself if he has so many regrets? He frowns down across his desk as the bell rings.

He discovers Puck's at his desk in an instant. The slap of Puck's hands against the wood breaks his dynamic. "Dude. You alright?"

"M' fine, Puck." He groans through laced hands, putting down his pen.

Puck studies his body language for a second before handing Blaine his backpack. "She was calling you for like, four minutes. You looked like you were having heart failure. You looked- I don't know- dead or something."

_If only_. Blaine thinks sarcastically. _It's a matter of time before those monsters find me anyways._

Puck, knowing he'll get nowhere, leaves for his next class. Blaine figures it's because he's dealt with worse. After all, his best friend can be pretty mean when he's in a mood, and Puck's probably fed up with matters concerning bad tempers.

By the time lunch rolls around, Blaine's still problem solving. It's a step in the right direction, but he needs a way to get out of his head. It's a cycle, a never-ending circle of Sebastian and Kurt, the attack and then the police station.

Or maybe it's that one thing that bothers him most…. The fact that people _know_, _Sebastian_ knows. _Here we go again._ He gets dizzy just thinking about it.

Blaine orders a medium drip and chocolate biscotti. He adds in a particular amount of cinnamon- something Kurt had never been fond of- and huffs down into a leather chair. _What is it with Dalton and leather?_ He fumes, sticking to the material. _Great, now I'm angry at furniture. Get yourself together Blaine._

"What's up little man?"

Blaine sighs, and sits up straighter. "Hey."

"Mind if Puckzilla joins you?"

"Not at all. Sorry about earlier," he pinches his nose, "I'm just really stressed out."

"Dude, I _know_ stressed." Puck's eyebrows shoot straight up as he bites into his mozzarella Panini. "Trust me, I almost had a kid." Blaine notes to ask him about that later. They enter a pocket of silence, Blaine drinking and Puck chewing, until Puck decides to speak again. "You're to uptight," he gestures, "Look at you all tied up like a birthday present."

Blaine loosens his tie, suddenly self-conscious about his physicality. "So?"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs.

Puck finishes his sandwich and looks around the room, perhaps in attempt to gather his thoughts. He turns back to Blaine, snatches his biscotti and follows him up; mouth full of chocolate, "You should come to one of my boxing classes. Get some of that stress out. Mano a mano, like those Spanish dudes say. Bet you'd love it." He waves the biscotti at Blaine and flicks it like a wand.

He can't resist the lively expression that takes over his face, so he steals his snack from Puck and raises an eyebrow, relishing in the feeling of invitation. "I think I'll pass. Mano a mano doesn't sound like much fun."

"That was an order from Dr. Puckaroni. Boxing on Sunday, be there or face my wrath."

"Not intimidated, Puck." Blaine swirls the biscuit in his coffee, closing his eyes to the wonderful smell of cinnamon and chocolate. For a second he feels like he's in a different place entirely. It's funny how something scents can do that.

"You don't need to push me away, bro, I'm just trying to help. Should I start calling you mini-Sebastian?" Puck's instigating, Blaine can tell, but he's not sure what the other is trying to expose.

Blaine knows he's going to end up accepting Puck's invite, but he's enjoying their small talk so he plays along, standing up for his roommate in the process.

"Sebastian doesn't push people away." He says matter-of-factly. Puck smirks at him, implying Blaine knows something that Blaine's sure he doesn't. "What?"

Puck stares for a moment, crossing his arms over the table and shifts forward slightly, "Nothing, nothing."

"Stop that!" Blaine laughs, only out of nerves. Puck's jabs are frustrating him. Usually these things don't bother him, but he's spent the entire day deciphering codes in his ownmind, now Puck's expecting him to figure more out? Impossible.

"I'm not doing anything." Puck grins, leaning back into his chair. "So are you coming with?"

Blaine feels something contort inside. He was just standing up for Sebastian. That's all. Is that a crime? His roommate may have some bad habits, but he's still a good guy. A great guy! _He stays up with me when I have nightmares!_ Blaine wants to shout. So what was Puck insinuating?

He can't let the other's comment slide, "I don't know. You were looking at me funny."

"I look at everyone whose stupidly love struck like that." Blaine kicks Puck under the table, blushing furiously with understanding. "Ow! Fine, don't come." Puck stands up melodramatically, limping a little as he picks up his own bag.

"I'm coming."

"Gross." Puck jests, turning his back on the table. He waves over his shoulder, "See you Sunday, bro!"

Blaine waves back, invisible and confused.

As soon as his friend is gone his mind explodes.

He shoves his coffee down on the table and lets out the breath he had been holding. _Shit._ Does Sebastianlike him like that?Does _he_ like Sebastian like that? Even though- there's no way.

There's absolutely no way. If Puck knew what they know… the secret they share. There's just, no way. Impossible. They're friends. Friends, help each other out. That's all they've been doing. He ignores the blush still warm and at home on his face.

Maybe it's time he took a break from all this thinking.

He caps everything away again, nerves jittery, reminding himself that Sebastian has a certain lifestyle, and even if he wanted to he couldn't provide what Sebastian needs the most.

He's not Dane. He doesn't play sports or send flirty text messages. He doesn't have stupidly pliant hair or dress straight, and he doesn't have washboard abs or long arms and legs.

He doesn't- he can't really- he doesn't even love himself yet. He sighs, how could he love someone else? _Puck doesn't know what he's talking about,_ he tells himself, _he's just messing with you. Misinterpreting signs…_

Feeling a little better, he indulges in cinnamon and chocolate.

_But this- _he takes another bite- _this I could love. _

Maybe he's better off alone.


	10. Chapter 10

Boxing. Is. Awesome.

It's everything and more than Blaine could have asked for if he prayed to a higher god. It's immaculate. His body has become this _toned_ fortress, and it's easier to catch his breath. He's more certain. He stands a little taller now, shoulders back, eyes confident, with a spring in his step.

Blaine Anderson ready to kick that storms ass.

He's genuinely happy for the first time in ages. Boxing has become his liberation. With every punch it's like he's shooting out invisible balls of negativity that seep and disappear into that vast black bag. Sometimes he pictures those strangers. Sometimes he pictures himself. He feels most guilty when he pictures Kurt.

He knows he shouldn't be upset with him, but why didn't Kurt try? He could have driven over and checked in, sent an e-mail, _something. _His parents must have pulled something horrible to make Kurt forget so easily. Blaine pictures himself with a tattoo on his forehead. It reads, '_undistinguished.' _When he remembers Kurt he feels invisible.

So Blaine punches.

He thinks of those smooth pink lips. _Punch. _He thinks of those wide blinking eyes. _Punch. _He remembers "I love you's" and holding hands and- _PUNCH. Punch. PUNCH!_

He leaves Dalton's gym every night sweaty and exhausted, to tired to dwell on the past and excited for whatever tomorrow's workout brings. He's looking forward to things again. If _that's_ not progress, then Blaine doesn't know what _is. _

He's most proud of his progress with sleep. He hasn't been waking up screaming lately, something he knows Sebastian is grateful for, although the nightmares still come and go. (It's a definite improvement from where he was in December.)

He just feels so much better, and who would have thought its origins would lye in tandem with Puck's interests?

_Puckzilla!_

That makes him laugh. Blaine remembers the first time they'd met, how he almost cried when his mohawk first stepped into view. It's wonderful what time does for old wounds.

Blaine tries to think of a better future, of something bright and peaceful, but he knows the attack will be an eternal black spot. Maybe he can smudge it out a bit? Reduce it to a shadow instead of the monster that's been growing inside of him.

March has arrived, and Blaine's been busy crafting his new hobby. He was right about Sebastian. They neglect each other all the time now; mainly because Sebastian's playing first-string lacrosse, and Blaine's playing with his punching bag.

Blaine doesn't know what he'd being doing if he hadn't found an outlet for his thoughts. Probably go crazy. He jokes about it, but inside he still has that fear. Those 'what ifs' he throws into the wind, unable to acknowledge incase his worries are just.

He slicks up his sleeves as he leaves the gym, his heart still racing with the thought of punching an imaginary stranger. His form isn't to bad, but tomorrow he plans on really focusing where his feet are. You have to be quick if you want to have a successful defense.

Puck shared that wisdom with him, along with a lung-deflating trip that knocked Blaine directly on his back. For a second he almost triggered a scream, but he caught it, thankfully remembering where he was.

"I'll have a medium drip, please."

He flashes a smile for the barista and slips a one-dollar bill into their tip jar. _Coffee_, Blaine thinks, _liquid gold._ Once it arrives he pops the lid back on and hopes he threw in enough cinnamon. He's desperate to feel the rush of energy hit his lips.

The past couple weeks have been exhausting, what with him straightening out his life, punching bag included, and today's Warbler catch up is going to be _long_.

Blaine crosses his arms and places his head in the crooks of his elbows, ignoring the stench that's still lingering from his workout. _Come on caffeine! Hurry up. _As he waits for his coffee to fill in the cracks, his phone buzzes loudly on the table.

_To Blaine: Where have you been?_

He debates not answering for a moment. He and Sebastian don't text very often, and his words more often than not tend to get stuck in his throat. After minutes of deciding what to say/do he sticks with his gut and brings attention to their mutual distance.

_To Sebastian: Hey stranger_

As soon as he sends it two more pop up in his inbox.

_To Blaine: Cause I never see you 'round_

_To Blaine: Are you hiding from me?_

Before Blaine can fully grasp that 'Rihanna' is serenading him via text message, he hits reply with an overzealous toothy grin.

_To Sebastian: Clever. _

_To Sebastian: I'm in the caf getting some coffee!_

_To Blaine: Sounds like you don't need it._

_To Sebastian: Sounds like __**you**__ do_

"Mind if I join you?"

It's the second time he's heard a variation of that phrase, and he has a close call with a coffee soaked phone when he looks up and spots Sebastian, cellular device clutched in his palm, watching him with amusement.

Sebastian swallows as he looks down at Blaine. He scans him from head to toe, up and down, and then takes a seat across from him neatly folding an ankle across his knee.

"Bas?" Blaine says dumbly, trying to play catch up with his brain.

"You've been avoiding me." Sebastian says coolly, scanning Blaine's face for answers. Blaine wipes his mouth on the skin of his wrist; self conscious of smudges from the way green keeps flickering there.

"Have not." Blaine says in mock earnest. "We both have crazy schedules right now."

"Oh please. OJ is a better liar than you."

He tries not to break his mask, but it's to funny. Blaine laughs and brings a hand to his forehead, like it will hide his obvious delight in Sebastian's comment. They laugh together, and when Blaine pulls his hand away Sebastian's expression gets serious.

For some reason, his roommate's expression warrants an excuse. "I've been busy." It's the best he can do, considering spontaneity isn't his strongest suit.

A receives a docile nod. "Doing what?" Sebastian's taunting him; he knows Blaine's taken up a new past time.

Blaine sits back in his chair and studies Sebastian, considering. His voice turns silly, "Avoiding you." He notices how easy it is to forget with Sebastian. Almost _to _easy, but little things will bring him back to the present, like Puck's comment weeks prior.

Blaine notices they're sitting in the exact same spot. He taps his feet under the table to distract himself. As if anticipating his daydream, he hears Sebastian's smile when he says, "Sounds fun."

"Do you think they would notice if I didn't show up tonight?" Blaine attempts another sip of his coffee, but he knows it's a worthless effort. His muscles are aching for a shower, and a pillow-comforter combination would be equivalent to heaven right now.

"Probably," the other snorts, "considering they've been planning all month for it."

Something clicks, easily reflected in Blaine's expression. "I forgot." He winces, "Tonight's that boogie thing isn't it?"

"Christ, Blaine," Sebastian hums, low and sweet, "The _Bougie._"

"Hmph. Sounds _fun._" He plays in return.

"Yeah well, you'll see it first hand. Looks like you could use a nap, though." Sebastian gets up and retrieves his bag; suddenly thoughtful he opens his mouth to talk but decides against it.

"What?" Blaine pries, noticing the hesitation.

"Nothing. I've, uh, I'm going over Dane's before hand so you can have the room to yourself. You'll be okay?"

He pretends not to feel the drop in his chest at the mention of Dane, and for a second he thinks Sebastian is asking him if he's okay with their relationship. Before he says anything embarrassing he realizes Sebastian's talking about the nightmares.

"Yes mom." Puck was unquestionably wrong. "I guess I'll see you tonight then. Are you taking my advice and inviting him to the party?" Blaine figures that by mentioning Dane the awkward tension in the air will settle, but it doesn't.

Sebastian frowns a little. "I don't know, he's not an introduce-to-your-friends kind of guy. That's why I'm going over now."

They lock eyes, both unsure of how to continue. "Hm."

"Well. See you later then?" Blaine nods enthusiastically as Sebastian walks away, and decides it's time for that nap.

When he gets back he peels off his clothes, steps into a scalding hot shower, and falls sound asleep within seconds of hitting the mattress.

* * *

Blaine feels… bouncy? Yeah. Bouncy. Like he doesn't have a single care in the world. Heck, he _doesn't _have a single care in the world thanks to those jell-o shots he just sucked down. He'd had- he'd had, uh- well… lots of them he supposes.

They were so tasty! Nothing like what he and Kurt had drank at Scandals. _Oops. _That stuff is _not_ coming up tonight. Blaine doesn't want it to. He wants to celebrate the Warblers' failure the Warbler way, and that does not involve bad memories. He stops his thinking to zone in on the bass pumping through speakers around him.

_I party lock a rock star_

_Look like a movie star_

_Play like an all star_

_Fuck like a porn star_

He bobs his head absentmindedly while he takes a sip of whatever Puck recently handed him. "This is so much fun!" He accidentally shouts, making his friend jump.

"Told you, bro. It's fuckin' wild!" Puck pulls him in for a side hug and Blaine's drunk enough to snuggle into his side, beaming as Puck ruffles his hair. "Having fun, Blaine?" Puck lets Blaine go, causing Blaine to shuffle back against a couch for support.

"Yes! So much!" He raises his arm and they clink glasses, missing awkwardly from skewed depth perception. Blaine spots Sebastian eyeing him from across the room so he raises his chin and smiles triumphantly. A silent glint of praise comes from Sebastian's nod, and Blaine feels a rush of fireflies burst through his veins.

He watches Sebastian tilt his head lower to mouth at the rim of his cup. He stares at the way his Adams apple moves welcoming in whatever liquid lives in his hands. Did he just lick his lips? Puck whips around to watch where Blaine had been staring. Before he can comment Sebastian heads their way.

"Gentlemen." Puck jumps on him, squeezing hard enough to make the taller second guess his footing. "How much have you two had to drink? I thought _I _was bad." He flushes, alcohol obviously taking charge behind his eyes.

Blaine doesn't respond. He just stares. Sebastian's prettier than he remembers him being. In the silence that follows, mouth-hanging open, he sees Puck give Sebastian a knowing look.

Sebastian laughs and pushes him familiarly to the side. His expression goes soft, "You okay, B?" He nods, and Sebastian squeezes him on the shoulder, until something- _someone_- catches the other's attention from across the room. "You came?"

Blaine spins around to see the mystery person and his chest tightens. Dane is standing there, looking straighter than ever, beautiful and tall. He bites his lip.

_Damnit._

The tracks change in the background and Blaine settles himself between Wes and David towards the back of the room. Their girlfriends are there too, but Blaine's not very interested in them.

He's met a _lot _of girlfriends tonight, but Puck's is his favorite. She's beautiful with smooth skin, and a kind heart. She called him sweetie, and complimented his sweater vest bow-tie ensemble. Wes, David, and Blaine all look on as she works her hips, her short blonde hair swirling around her face. She grinds back into Puck.

Blaine tries not to watch Dane do the same with Sebastian, but it's close to impossible. Both boys look absolutely wrecked. Sebastian's hands are wrapped possessively around the other's waist, and Dane has his head tilted back on Sebastian's shoulder. Both of their hair is sticking up from the strange heat encompassing the room.

Blaine tries to think of a time in his future when he can have that again. He can't picture it. He's driven to find another drink. He doesn't want those thoughts tonight. They trouble him. He finishes off another rum and coke, and makes himself stop caring if Sebastian thinks he's gross or tainted.

He wants to make Sebastian smile like that too.

The tracks change again; the murky glow of the room has started shifting in ways Blaine feels are unreal. Once he stands up he realizes maybe all of this isn't. Maybe he needs another drink to find out if it is.

"M' so drunk." He says to no one in particular. Part of him wants to find his bed and plop down into a deep dreamless sleep, but when he sees Dane wander off to the drink table Blaine's legs begin walking on their own accord, stepping in to take his stupidly fixed place.

Sebastian, surprised by the sudden stumbling ball of curls at his side, mumbles something under his breath. He takes Blaine into a questioning hug, slowly leaning back when Blaine doesn't move under his arms. "B?"

Blaine's lost in his scent. He stares blankly at Sebastian's chest and looks up through long lashes. They make eye contact and the worlds in fast-forward around them. Only, the two of them are slow. Suspended in some fog neither Blaine nor Sebastian can define.

"Sebastian." He manages to get out. His brain keeps short-circuiting, and his body is uncomfortable and full of adrenaline all at once.

It breaks their reserve for a moment, just long enough for Sebastian to lose inhibitions and pull Blaine a little closer. He feels an immediate reaction in his gut; it's screaming at him to pull away because his body is on fire, but Blaine ignores it.

Tonight he wants to melt.

_Beat. Beat. Beat._

Blaine's falling, eyes lazily half open, falling- _falling_- right into Sebastian, and he doesn't feel like fighting to come up for air. He doesn't notice the taller shoot a sympathetic look over his shoulder.

When Sebastian places their foreheads together Blaine whines from their connection. His mouth is suddenly dry and he swallows thickly hoping the saliva will return in time for him to speak. "You're so- you're so _tall_."

Sebastian, inches from Blaine's mouth, stills. Blaine feels his fingers tighten and grip into his waist, "You like that I'm tall, Blaine?"

Blaine's mind whirls. He feels, upside down. He's never heard Sebastian talk like that before and it- well Blaine feels something else now other than hollowed out rejection- and knowing what it is he's not sure whether to be afraid or let the arousal overtake him. He shouldn't be enjoying this so much. He doesn't deserve it. He moves his head lower, an easier option, and gets lost in the scent again.

_Safe._

His heart scrambles in his chest and he nods into Sebastian's left shoulder. Sebastian mumbles something again, "_shit," _as Blaine starts moving patterns over his neck with his fingers. "_Blaine._" He croaks. Their bodies are glued together, unmoving, the song is forgotten and their bodies are jostled by others dancing around them.

"Yeah?" Blaine looks up eyes shiny and wide. Sebastian literally drops his mouth, and shivers. _Shivers_, under Blaine's gaze.

"I-we-"

"Mm, Bas?"

"Can I bring you upstairs?"

Blaine nods and closes his eyes. He feels Sebastian grip his forearm and lead him towards the door. The fast paced walk to their room is completely silent. The moment they step out into the hallways of Dalton, whatever _this_ is feels more real, and Blaine's full of panic. He's in way over his head right now.

He'd told himself, when he rejected this reaction earlier, that the best way to get over the attack was to throw himself out there again. He's not so sure he'd been right. He's not sure if he really wants this.

He tries to picture kissing Kurt, but the thought of Kurt makes him angry. Maybe kissing Sebastian will make him feel different? Puck _did _say that Sebastian likes him, and even if he can't see it maybe he has to taste it first to find out.

They arrive in their shared space, and Blaine's heart feels like it's about to leap out of his chest. His nerves are out of control, oddly sobering, and he's not sure they should have left now.

"Who let you drink so much?"

Blaine ignores the question. Sebastian walks to him and reaches out, placing his hands gently on Blaine's sides. They stare at one another for a second; a silent conversation and a million little understandings pass between them.

"Seb-"

Blaine gathers all his courage and tests his true feelings. He forces himself closer, leaning up, parting his lips, and- Sebastian moves away. Blaine's not sure if he's frowning or not, and before he can say it himself, Sebastian does.

"_I'm afraid_."

He almost misses it, because his mind is so fuzzy. Sebastian's not supposed to feel that way. It's then that Blaine understands what Puck was trying to say earlier _does_ push people away, and Blaine's torn between rejection and relief with how to react.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Something superior overshadows the other's features. Then he says off handedly, "You're kind of killing my buzz."

Blaine stands world spinning and stomach churning. He feels warped like a movie with a surprise ending, or a record that's been scratched.

Hurt flashes in Blaine's eyes, but Sebastian's looking towards the door, dying to escape. "O-oh. I thought." He says tormented, a slip in speech. Blaine's words come out more self-conscious than he had intended to sound. He wants to say how it felt wrong anyways, that his body isn't ready yet, but he tries to be brave. He tries to be strong, like the rejection doesn't matter. "Have fun with _Dane._"

Sebastian's mouth twitches and his shoulders tense. He doesn't like to be judged negatively and that's exactly what Blaine's insinuating. After all, if the taller can decide it's time for Blaine to go to bed, then Blaine can decide how stupid he's being for throwing himself around like he doesn't matter.

Because he does…

"I will have fun with Dane, thank you. It'll be a nice vacation from dealing with all your crazy bullshit." Blaine witnesses the small snippet of regret, but Sebastian doesn't apologize. He doesn't mean it, surely he couldn't. Sebastian's _never_ that mean to him.

Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's because Sebastian is the one who is saying these things, but Blaine can't help the tears forming in his eyes.

_So that's what he thinks of you. _

All traces of logic evaporate from Blaine's mind. Had he really thought Sebastian wanted to kiss him? He was just taking him upstairs so that he wouldn't make a fool out of himself at the party.

Humiliation.

Discomfort.

Blaine's furious, and hurt. Mostly hurt. "Why do you make jokes like that? I'm not crazy, I'm-" _Defeated. _

"Look, Blaine, I'm not going to treat you like a porcelain doll just because you feel like one."

Blaine's blood is boiling. Sebastian had said he wanted to find out who Blaine truly was, and he's completely missed the mark. Blaine doesn't feel weak, he feels better than ever, so to prove his point he gets close.

He's tiptoeing up as high as he can to get in Sebastian's face when he snaps, "I'm sorry I was _raped_ Sebastian! Forgive me for inconveniencing you by trying to get over it! And I _feel_ **fine**, thank you for asking."

The other's eyes are large and apprehensive before thoughts start forming visibly on his face. Blaine realizes his fists are balled up, and Sebastian eyes them before he takes a step back. "Whatever." He stalks out the door, speaking in French, and slams it behind him.

Blaine hates the smell wafting from his carpet right now. Drinking, he learns in all finality, doesn't suit him very well.

"I hate you." He lowers his face into his pillow. "I _hate _you!"


	11. Chapter 11A

Awkward doesn't even begin to describe it.

Blaine punches and kicks, ducks and jumps more than he talks these days. He's been working on his mindset too, concentrating on the one twos that life throws at him.

He'll be ready now. He has to be.

He didn't ask for what happened to him, no one would, but every instance in which he rips off that mask and another one comes to take its place he can't help but wonder why. The more he filters through his issues, the softer his edges become, and he's changing, but it's indescribable.

He just _is _whereas before he _wasn't_. Perhaps it's the confidence that's crafted from his new ambition. Maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe he just needed time.

Blaine asks himself who he really is. Who _is_ this Blaine Anderson both him and Sebastian keep trying- and failing- to see? He'll catch glimpses every so often. Sometimes when he throws a particularly sobering jab. He ducks under an imaginary advance, _one two step one hit two jab_.

Sebastian's been awfully quiet lately, although he hasn't been exactly, _distant_, either. This quiet battle between them is wearing Blaine out. He keeps mulling over what he should have done differently, had he avoided that kiss, and what would have happened if? Except, that's the mindset that brought him here in the first place.

Isn't he trying to get over that way of thinking?

He knows that words were never Sebastian's strong suit, and that the taller is probably just as confused about what happened as Blaine is. However, now that Blaine thinks of it, words aren't really his forte either. He's just going to wait it out.

He twists his abdomen, expelling all of his breath before leaning into a right hook, and tries to forget.

_PUNCH._

The sweat jumps of his body, stampeding to the ground and sticking to the fabric of his gray sweatshirt that's clinging to his back. The hug it creates against his body is unexpectedly comforting, a band-aid of sorts, and he imagines how it'd feel to be touched again.

_Really_ touched. Not like Puck's sideswipes or Sebastian's awkward shoulder pats. Blaine wants to be held, to be kissed… Earlier, his need to be like before- untouched- was something he wanted, but now he feels like he's ostracized himself, and he craves the press of fingertips to flesh more than anything else in the world. Nothing, _extreme_, Blaine just wants to hold a hand or snuggle into another's embrace. Where did all this 'want' come from?

He pretends to have no memory of an attempt with Sebastian's mouth.

Back in the room, his roommate is in a heated text message battle. There's a French book resting on his lap, and he's sitting half upright against the wall. His hair's skewed in all sorts of relative angles, and he's viciously expressive as he types.

Sebastian's fingers are snapping and pressing into the plastic of his phone in such a rapid manner that it might melt. Blaine's surprised to see him occupied so fiercely, so he watches for a little before going about his own business.

They haven't been speaking, but Blaine can tell Sebastian's angry by the way color floods into his neck and ears. He wants to say hello, be cordial, and ask 'how was your day?' He wants to ask what's wrong, with whom are you fighting, but the air is so stagnant between them he's afraid he'll choke on any attempt with speech.

It's silly, whatever the two of them are avoiding, but Blaine's used to keeping his mouth shut so he says nothing, opinion internal, encouraging their distance to grow with each passing day.

It's strange seeing Sebastian like this. He's usually put together, confident, and well dressed but ever since their disagreement he's been the exact opposite: tired, silent, and messy.

Blaine remembers a time when he'd guessed that old habits die hard, but he never thought it would look like this. Sebastian hasn't left the room unless necessary since their _whatever_ it was, and Blaine's starting to wonder if there's a reason.

There have been no sleepovers, no innuendos, and no words.

It's just been Sebastian and Blaine, and silence.

Blaine's sticky and sweaty from the gym so he doesn't think twice before facing the wall and stripping his shirt off. The clicking from Sebastian's phone stops. He doesn't see the flicker from across the room brighten and darken all at once because he's searching under his bed for his shower caddy.

He's somewhere between kneeling and standing, caddy in hand, when their door starts rattling on its hinges. Loud knocks play one after another, testing the wood's acoustics.

"Sebastian I _know_ you're in there! Open the _fucking_ door, you asshole!"

It's Dane.

Which brings Blaine back to his initial thought:

Awkward doesn't even begin to describe it.

He's torn between opening the door so that the noise will cease, and turning to Sebastian for a resolution. He glances across the room where the other is casually reading his French book- a disguise Blaine knows as a monotonous distraction- and decides to open the door.

His hand _just_ greets the doorknob when the air surrounding his body rivets and a voice comes through.

"Leave it."

Sebastian doesn't even bother to look up when he comments, and Blaine almost doesn't believe it's him that's spoken at first. Are they talking now?

"Isn't that Dane?" He says innocently. "Are you two fighting or something?"

"Sebastian! _Open_. _This_. _Door!_ You can't just text me that shit and expect me to be a-fucking-okay!" There's a pause. Blaine thinks that the boy has given up until a fist slams hard against the frame. Dane says ferociously loud, "Open it or I'll tell everyone you let me top!"

Blaine tries to redirect the heat in his cheeks, ignoring the images flooding his mind. Sebastian mutters to himself slightly embarrassed, more so to Dane, although _he_ can't hear it, "_You can do better than that_."

He continues 'reading' his textbook.

For a fraction of a second it's just Sebastian and Blaine again. Old friends who're ready to play catch up after a long period of silence. The sarcasm feels like home, something Blaine didn't know he's missed, and then he remembers where he is and what's going on.

He feels like he's caught in the middle of a raid, a war between himself and a giant machine. The door is so loud he thinks it might break from the discord.

What if he opens it and tells Dane that Sebastian isn't home? He shuffles to the room's entrance but second-guesses himself, unsure of what to do. He looks over at Sebastian again for encouragement.

"I said leave it."

The brunette still doesn't look up.

Blaine doesn't want their conversation to end-if that's even what it is- but he doesn't know what else to do. All these words left unsaid will be invisible to deaf ears, so why try?

What it comes down to is that not everything is in his control. It's an idea he could indisputably apply to other areas of his life, but he'll save that for tomorrow's practice.

He replies, "O-okay?"

It takes ten minutes for the knocking to stop, fifteen for the threats to fade. Blaine finishes his shower and dresses during that time, hyper aware of his mute roommate glancing towards his side of the room.

He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it.

The third time Sebastian looks over, Blaine winks- a memento from their first week together at Dalton- and he earns a shy effort at upturned lips.

Blaine doesn't push for conversation. His head's swimming in it already, and as he goes to his desk to study- stealing Sebastian's French book along the way- he knows things will sort themselves out.

He just needs time.


	12. Chapter 11B

It feels like forever has passed, and they still haven't had a proper conversation.

Blaine eats, dresses, works out, and sleeps. Sebastian does the same, and it's all in silence. They'll have moments where they accidentally interact, usually Sebastian figures it out first and ends it, but Blaine commits each occasion to memory, figuring out ways he can restart the cycle again.

Sometimes he just talks to Sebastian anyway, hoping that his chatter will force the other boy into response. It isn't until Friday night when they're at dinner does Sebastian make an effort.

Blaine's shoveling salad in his mouth, Sebastian on his right, when it happens.

"So, Blaine." He starts, coolly choosing the right words and sending shivers up Blaine's spine, "about that kiss..."

Blaine doesn't answer.

He's distracted by the blinking red letters hovering across the cafeteria's television screen: _**Breaking News**_. He's seen this once before, the day of the repeat attack, and he holds his breath in anticipation for the worst.

Sebastian double takes and follows Blaine's sightline towards the small screen in the back of the room. He looks back at Blaine again; whose fork is hovering mid-air, and decides it must be important so he watches too.

Blaine forgets almost instantly that Sebastian's broken their treaty of silence.

They have a lead.

Detective Smythe is visible on Dalton's television and they have a lead. He sets his fork down, and takes it all in.

He'd been so angry when they reported the repeat attack, and he's spent enough time thinking now to understand why. He feels responsible. He _always_ feels responsible. Blaine's figured out that he'd carry the weight of the world on his shoulders before giving up the feeling of failure.

Regardless of his revelation, what's fact is fact. Blaine's account of what happened that night hadn't been useful enough for investigators. It was to variable, they said, because of his black outs, to variable because he'd been concussing from blows to the head.

_That_ and he'd only clearly seen one of the men…

… the man with the tattoo.

Blaine suppresses his body's repulsion of the memory. He feels sickness creep in and out of his limbs, a small sweat forms above his brow. That man. He'd never forget being forced to stare into his eyes, and the cruel sadistic smile that followed the stranger's hesitation. _No. No. No._

He cups his left hand absentmindedly to his throat, remembering how his blood pulsed in frantic blasts beneath the cool sharp metal. It's there that Blaine discontinues his train of thought.

_They have a lead. _

That means the second victim is awake and giving information, concrete, pursuable details that will put those men away for an admittedly long time. He wishes it were forever.

Unfortunately, Blaine knows what's coming next.

This must be what his gut was preparing him for. What his body has been training to fight, what his _mind _has been trying to forget. Just like that, as if it'd been waiting to mock him his entire life, there it is.

There _he _is.

It roughly made, but accurate nonetheless. Among the dark charcoal smudges and chalky fingerprints there's a recognizable quality to it. His nose is off, but the artist has captured his eyes and jaw line perfectly in the sketch.

The tattooed man is watching Blaine through blinking red letters, and his first thought is, _when will the Warblers find out? _

The kids here are smart. They pay attention to fine details, and Blaine's slip up is bound to resurface. He knows this isn't McKinley where one kids problems are another's playground. Dalton has a zero bullying tolerance, but Blaine can't help but wonder what they'll think.

He's only worried because he knows how he feels about it.

Suddenly he isn't hungry anymore.

He's about to excuse himself, face paling, when a hand reaches out and laces its fingers through his. With the numb comes a swelling sensation, and really, who needs words when actions dissertate volumes?

"I see you two have made nice."

Sebastian snatches his hand away, and Blaine can still feel small tingles shooting around beneath his palms.

"About damn time. If I have to hear this guy," he motions to Sebastian as if he weren't present, "complain _one _more time about missing-" Puck shrinks under devious eyes, and directs the conversation back to Blaine. "Anyways, did _Sebastian_ at least tell you about last weekend?"

Blaine tries his best but he can't avoid feeling devastatingly hurt. They've been distant since the party, but were they that serious? What about all those near miss conversations they'd had?

Blaine wasn't even worth _hinting_ that something important was happening in his best friend's life? He plays with his food, wondering what else Sebastian has been silent about, when Puck continues.

"Of course he didn't. You're so damn hardhead, man!" He smacks Sebastian on the back of his head, earning another death stare. "His coach officially made him team captain."

Blaine lights up, proud on the other's behalf, but feeling dejected inside, "Congrats!" Hidden beneath his smile are pain, rejection, and fear. Sebastian mumbles a 'thanks' after Puck gives him a look, and Blaine tries to ignore the story replaying in red in the back of the room.

"Yeah, he's officially a starter now. Lead attack, bro. Alan said he couldn't make it because of this homo hunting douche bag," Puck gestures over his shoulder at the television, "so all the Warblers are in mandatory attendance."

Blaine overlooks the douche bag comment, and scrambles to keep the conversation away from the attacks, "Who's Alan?"

Puck looks at Blaine suspiciously, "Smythe's dad? Duh."

Blaine tilts his head from Sebastian to Puck, and remembers his salad. "You call him Alan?" He takes a bite, successful in his diversion.

"Beside the point, dude. You in?"

Both Sebastian and Puck are waiting for Blaine's answer, but there are other things pressing on Blaine's mind. The air goes stiff around their table, and Blaine wishes that he isn't imagining that shimmer of hope in Sebastian's eyes.

He accepts on one condition. "As long as I can wear my new bowtie!" he gushes, full of confidence from Sebastian's expression.

All three of them laugh while he goes into detail, explaining how the deep blue contrasts the red canaries that are polka dotted along the reversible fabric. Sebastian has to occupy his mouth with food so that he doesn't react to fondly towards Blaine's request, but it doesn't go unnoticed.

The belief that things will get better turns into something solid within him, and Blaine looks forward to whenever it decides to do so. _Hurry up_, he thinks, watching the television again for more information


	13. Chapter 12

He's pretty sure they're at the mall because he's had this one before.

He's wearing his white Lacoste polo and a lime green bowtie, and they've just left the massage chairs as per Kurt's request. Blaine's a little unhappy because they haven't gone to a single store of his choosing yet.

It's stupid to be angry about something so small, he knows the mall is Kurt's second home; he just really wants to check out that new record shop thats opened and see if they have the re-released Bryan Ferry collection there.

They walk by the store on their way to the food court, and Blaine decides he can't pass up the opportunity. He stops Kurt in front of a fountain, conveniently placed next to the escalators. _Here we go_.

"I'm going in there really quick, okay?"

Kurt turns around- just like he always does in this one- and when he faces Blaine he isn't Kurt anymore. He isn't even human. He's- he's- Blaine stumbles backwards and edges over the concrete barrier of the fountain. There's a splash and Kurt's faceless form is hovering over him, holding him down.

Boney claws grow slow and sharp from his fingertips, scratching into Blaine's sides. "_Hurry up_!" Kurt screams, pushing him down, filling his lungs with liquid death.

The water is staining red from the blood leaking out of his flesh and very quickly the fountain starts spinning, shooting, and sputtering, coming to life with every ounce of 'Blaine' that he loses in blood.

"Kurt! Help!" He opens his mouth, but there's silence. No ones listening. He's going to die in here. Kurt's killing him. He's going to die!

Blaine forces himself to open his eyes and stare at the faceless figure. Even in death he'll get it right this time. He spots a hand, strong, wrist deep in the water to his left. It looks as if it's been waiting there forever. Patient and gentle it calls to him, slowly moving it's fingers back and forth, back and forth.

He reaches at it, grabbing desperately as the fountain threatens to steal his life. He's lifted from the haze, and suddenly the monster is gone. He's alone.

Blaine looks down at his clothes. They're white again, pristine. Dry.

He looks up- and this part is new, Blaine's never made it through the drowning part- Blaine sees…. Blaine sees Sebastian. He's standing there with an eyebrow raised, wearing Blaine's Dalton bowtie with a wide grin and a low laugh.

"I'm _afraid_."

Sebastian steps in and grabs Blaine's waist. Right before their lips meet Blaine is sitting upright in bed panting across the room , and trying to calm down his restless heart.

He thinks he's starting to understand his dreams.

* * *

Blaine doesn't get to see Sebastian after the game.

The team has successfully swept him away for setting up their winning goal, so he's not sure where he's supposed to be. Blaine fidgets in the bleachers with Wes and David while Puck checks in with the lacrosse team, deciding on a victory venue.

"Can't we just call it a night?" Blaine says half-heartedly, knowing his idea will be rejected immediately.

"C'mon! Live a little Anderson!" Wes wiggles his eyebrows and Blaine lets out a tiny chuckle at the absurdity of his appearance. Wes is right. That's exactly what he's been trying to do lately, so why push it back any longer?

_Live a little. _

He inhales, focusing on his abdomen, and lets everything go. In a matter of seconds he feels freer than he has in ages. No one has mentioned his slip up, his friends are encouraging him to live, and he feels like a rock star.

When Puck approaches he's beaming, completely immersed in the comradery of team spirit. Blaine tries his hand at taking incentive. "Where to, boys?" he directs his question at Puck.

"Breadstix!" He shouts.

They all cheer. Blaine's not sure why- he's never been to Breadstix before- but it feels nice to be accepted so he joins in, glad to be part of something again. He cheers once more, throwing his fist in the air, this time with Nick and Jeff.

Puck makes eye contact with Wes and they share a non-conversive moment, Blaine's become their little brother. He's quickly grabbed and stuck under Puck's arm. "Lets go, bro. We have a team to support, and specific members have specific needs. I think I know someone who could use the likes of your hair product."

"Shut up." Blaine punches, struggling free. "He's not interested."

"Yeah," Puck snorts, "and I'm not a Jew."

The drive goes by in a flash, and Blaine's surprised to find out that it'd actually taken over an hour to reach their destination. "Is it really _that _good?" He marvels, staring up at the giant crossing breadsticks that decorate the exterior entrance.

"Dude. Manna of heaven, but better." Puck's mouth is visibly watering, and Blaine's insides flip at the insinuation of fun. He's excited.

"Hey stranger."

Blaine feels his blood temperature rise and trickle through his limbs. "H-hey Bas." It's like nothing ever happened between them. All the tension is gone, just the way Blaine likes it, so he walks a little taller-not by much- and enjoys the present.

"We've got a lot to catch up on, huh?" Sebastian guides his arm around Blaine's back and Blaine nods before he leaves it there. He wants to scream he's so happy, but all he does is duck his head and blush as the Warblers cat call from behind.

"Settle down," Sebastian replies, "He hasn't said yes yet."

"_OoooooohHH!"_

Blaine blushes harder, thinking of all the things he might say 'yes' to…

Breadstix is _packed_.

Dalton takes up a third of their space, and Blaine's comfortably nestled between Puck's girlfriend and Sebastian's arm.

"So, catch up time?" Blaine settles on green and finishes speaking through his mouthful of pasta.

"Slow down, killer, it's not going anywhere." Sebastian wipes away some rogue sauce from Blaine's cheek and pauses. "Yeah. Catch up." He pulls his napkin around his finger, and focuses his full attention on Blaine. Even though it's horribly loud in there. "Want to do this outside? It's more private."

"Mhm." Blaine feels dreamy.

Puck winks at him as they stand to go outside. Blaine flips him off, and the table echoes laughter. Puck holds out his hands in presentation, "Ladies and gentlemen, Blaine Anderson." They all clap.

"Lets get out of here before I die of humiliation."

Sebastian does a once over, as Blaine turns pink. "Cute."

The two of them step out into the fingertips of a cool March night. Blaine covers his shoulders and shivers, causing Sebastian to run his arm up and over his shoulder.

Blaine feels fireworks.

It's like Sebastian's in his head, always in his head, and he knows exactly how and when to be there for him.

"Are you okay with being alone for a sec? I'll go get you my jacket."

He doesn't tell Sebastian that he finds all the warmth he needs in his touch, "Yeah. Thanks."

He watches Sebastian try to move through the pack of students inside the restaurant. Blaine figures it's going to be a while so he sits on a bench under a street light. He's alone and he's not taking any chances. Visibility is key to staying safe.

He stares up at the stars for a little while, piecing together his life since his transfer to Dalton. He feels like a separate person now, his heart's so full it might burst, and he relaxes into a dopey grin.

"-told Finn it _wasn't_ shampoo, but what does he do, Tina? What does he _do_-"

Blaine whips his head down so quickly he cracks his neck. The other does the same thing, stopping and stumbling mis-step.

"_Ohmygod._"

He opens his mouth, but he can't form words.

Just like in his dreams Kurt renders him speechless.

"Blaine?"

He waves stupidly, "Hi."

So he dreamt about Kurt. Big deal. He didn't mean to subconsciously summon him to Dalton's victory dinner! Shit he looked good. Blaine runs his fingers over his wristwatch and waits for their conversation to start.

They're both rooted into place, and maybe if he doesn't move Kurt will think he's an ice sculpture and continue on? Yeah. _Right_.

Kurt's sad blue eyes sparkle and Blaine's heart breaks all over again. Eventually Tina and some of his other friends go inside and leave them to talk. Blaine can feel them staring from inside the restaurant. _Where are you Sebastian?_

"Blaine-"

"-Kurt, hey."

They both laugh nervously, not knowing what to say or how to act. Kurt shuffles his feet, just like Sebastian does when he has something important to say, and bites his lip.

"I-"

"How-"

They laugh again.

"Sorry. You first." Blaine is standing now, face to face with the first tangible reminder of his past. It's the first physical reminder of how he got here, and Blaine feels immensely helpless and scared.

It's not like he can punch Kurt and force him to disappear, and he knows he doesn't want to do that, but how is he supposed to handle this right now? He guesses part of living is learning from the past. Here's his first test. _It had to be Kurt._

"I've missed you." Kurt says softly to his feet.

Blaine's not sure how to respond. He's missed Kurt to, but he can't bring himself to say it. He has to many questions for him. _Why haven't you called?_ _Why didn't you find me? Where were you when I needed you the most? _Blaine balls his fingers up tightly, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Have you?" It comes out more sour than he had intended.

Kurt's face falls. It's ironic, he thinks, that he'd been wishing for a chance to talk to his 'boyfriend' and when he finally shows up he doesn't want to anymore.

When he looks at Kurt… he doesn't _crave_ like he used to. Blaine thought seeing him would make him feel better. Like they would have some mutual understanding that Blaine needed help and then they would fall into a hug and kiss and- why the hell was he clinging to a notion that was clearly nonexistent?

When it comes down to it, Kurt wasn't there. He didn't even try. How long had it taken him to forget? How long had it taken for Kurt to move on, and here he was claiming to have missed him? After all this time?

All of those bruises he'd suffered through. His near miss with broken wrists, the blood, the pain... Through _all_ of it he'd thought of Kurt, and now Blaine can feel it again and it _hurts_.

It hurts so badly.

Blaine doesn't fight; he just takes it in. He breathes in the pain because, maybe this time it will go away. He faced this in his dream, and now he can do it in real life.

He stares at Kurt.

Kurt reaches out, only for Blaine to flinch away from his touch. The other stiffens at Blaine's reaction, instantly plagued with a look of remorse. "I'm _so _sorry, Blaine."

Blaine's stomach drops, shattering into a million tiny pieces that rip through his stomach, his lungs, and his chest. He stares at the ground trying not to cry in front of someone who's obviously hardened his heart long ago.

"Me too."

Bells jingle behind them as the entrance to Breadstix comes alive, and right before Blaine's about to excuse himself he feels the weight of a warm leather jacket and feather light hands on his shoulders.

"Hey B."

Sebastian pauses to check out their company. He chooses to ignore him for the time being. The taller brings Blaine into a hug from behind, obviously gaining delight for doing so in front of their guest when Kurt clears his throat.

"Sebastian," Blaine says, blushing from their physical contact, "this is-"

Sebastian looks at Puck through the window. Puck mouths something discreet to him, and smugly he turns to acknowledge Blaine's 'friend.'

"Yeah. Carl, is it?"

"Kurt."

"Right, Kent." Sebastian sticks out his hand, keeping a coy expression on his face, "Sebastian Smythe."

"Pleasure."

Kurt rolls out the 's' with his chin up, his eyes cold as ice. Blaine feels a chill watching the frosty blue clash with forest green. He'd pictured seeing Kurt again countless times, and none of them had been like this.

Everything seems to slow down, and Blaine notices the tension climbing up through each of their shoulders. Something's _different_.

"Likewise- so listen, Blaine and I were just getting ready to call it a night. Is there something we can help you with?"

"Actually-" Kurt begins.

"No? Good, because between you and I-" he leans in close, whispering fiercely in Kurt's ear, "We weren't really expecting any company tonight."

He pats Kurt on the shoulder and winks, gripping tightly until he's standing completely upright and looking down on Kurt's discomfort. Blaine looks between them in confusion. He doesn't say anything because he's not sure how to feel. Although he knows what he's leaning towards.

"You coming, babe?"

"Uh-" Blaine stammers, stealing one last glance at the man he thought meant forever, "Yeah, Bas." Sebastian stops in his tracks, clearly appreciating the endearment. "Yeah, I'm coming." Blaine slips his hand into Sebastian's and stares straight ahead, missing the goofy look that's failing repression on Sebastian's face.

"Let's go then."

Sebastian nudges Blaine and looks over his shoulder. He winks at Kurt, insinuating that Blaine's moved on, and continues thriving in his victorious public display of affection. Kurt just stands with his arms crossed, signifying his defeat.

Blaine's hurried to Sebastian's car, and he runs to the grass to vomit.

"Easy, babe. You okay?"

Blaine shakes his head. "Bring me home."

He does exactly that. The entire drive, Blaine presses his forehead against the layer of condensation on his window. They drive in silence but neither of them is afraid of it this time.

Blaine's just glad he's with Sebastian, and not anyone else, because he's positive he can't climb the walls that have resurfaced tonight. Sebastian's there to help knock them down, and Blaine already feels like he's crumbling.

As soon as they're inside Sebastian moves them both to the middle of the room. "Do you need anything, B? You don't look so good. Here, let me-"

Blaine's eyes well up in tears, "I knew it was over, we haven't talked, but." He can't finish; all his energy is spent attempting to trap the emotions before they surface.

Blaine swats Sebastian's hand away from his shoulder, and grunts. "Stop it." He doubles over fighting the urge to throw up. Sebastian gives Blaine some distance, slanting his head like he doesn't know what to do. "Y-you don't have to put up with my crazy bul-"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, shut up. I wasn't thinking when I said that, and you know it. _You're _the one who shouldn't have to put up with _me_."

Blaine's caught off guard. "But-" He straightens himself up, one hand on his bedpost and the tears begin to form.

"Blaine. I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry you've had to do all this by yourself, I'm sorry Kurt hurt you like that." he steps closer, "For the record, he's also an idiot, and I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it; I was just-" he pauses, a confession at his lips, "Stupid." He mutters.

Blaine can't respond. He can barely breathe.

Why did he ever walk away?Why wasn't it Kurt with him now? Why did those men choose _him_? Why can't he get over this? How long until he's over this! He's so _fucking_ sick of doing everything alone, and he doesn't want to do _anything _anymore. He's done. He's done with _everything_.

He starts to cry.

He's missed Kurt so much for nothing, and he's missed Sebastian and here he is. Sebastian is here, he hasn't given up on anything, and all of it's so elaborately screwed up that Blaine can't process any of it. His roommate cares more about him that his own _boyfriend_. Were they even boyfriends anymore? _God._

Something in Blaine breaks.

He starts lowering his body to the floor, an action he's become accustomed to, and finds that he's settled directly above Sebastian's stain. He's quickly followed, the other kneeling close, his senses overwhelmed by the sensation of _Christmas_ and the real Sebastian mixing together all at once.

"I- I- I-" Blaine chokes, unable to catch his breath.

"Shh," Sebastian hushes, pulling Blaine's delicate frame into his chest. "You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you, you're okay."

"God," he croaks out, sobbing violently into Sebastian, clinging and digging his fingers into the material of his shirt. "God, I- _Sebastian._"

"I know. It's okay. You'll be okay."

"I feel so," he gasps for a breath, "I feel so _lost_."

They sit like this for a long time, Sebastian offering comfort, holding Blaine to his chest. Eventually Blaine runs out of tears and just closes his eyes. He focuses on the little lines where Sebastian has been running his fingers up and down his back, and a realization falls into place.

This time instead of wishing for an end to his torment, he's thinking how lucky he is.

He wonders how long they've been sitting like this, crumpled and messy on the floor of their dorm room. "_Sebastian_." He says softly, just to make sure this is real. "Thanks." He sniffles.

"…Of course, babe."

Nothing else needs to be said. Blaine looks up to find green, and this time he lets himself vanish in it. It's like with one touch Sebastian gives him life, and he's afraid if he lets go he'll die. He hides his face in the others collarbone and takes a handful of deep breathes.

Sebastian holds him a little tighter.

He holds him until he falls asleep.

Somehow Blaine wakes up in his own bed, covered by the weight of blankets, alone. Immediately he turns to Sebastian's side of the room, seeking something. Comfort? Had everything been a dream?

A blinking 2:30 shines bright from Sebastian's clock, and from his bed- body lifeless from lack of sleep- the brunette shows him a barely there smile.

Has Sebastian been awake this entire time? Blaine feels a little guilty. The other senses Blaine's apprehensiveness, and mouths 'go to sleep' but Blaine doesn't want to.

He can't. He needs the added life that Sebastian brings with his touch. Without it the darkness will swallow him whole.

The room's silence is deafening. Blaine decides to put his progress to the test for the second time. He slowly peels off his blankets and walks carefully across the carpeted floor. His feet silently padding as he does so.

_Tap. TAP. Tap._

His body aches for Sebastian. His chest pulls him closer, acting as an invisible tether; his adrenaline spikes tenfold and Blaine musters a weak twitch at the corners of his mouth.

He stands for a moment at the base of Sebastian's bed, second-guessing his decision. The other watches, questions written all over his face, as Blaine meticulously settles himself underneath the covers.

Blaine can tell Sebastian's not sure whether it's okay to touch so he scoots closer, curling into the warmth no one but Sebastian can provide.

He gives in to the swirl in his stomach, and when Sebastian's arm finds it's way around his body he closes his eyes and _finally,_ he doesn't want to disappear.

He feels a ghost sensation of lips press imperceptible to the top if his head.

_You're fine. You're fine. You're fine. _

This time he believes it.


	14. Chapter 13A

Twelve o' clock rolls arrives in a blink of an eye, and Blaine's staring blankly into his closet. He's quietly buttoning up his sleeves when Sebastian storms in and tosses his lacrosse bag on the ground.

"Ready to go?"

He's windswept, cheeks rosy, and out of air.

Blaine feigns a smile, although he knows Sebastian can read right through it, and nods softly. He walks over and nuzzles into the taller's chest, feeling the tension unwind around him.

Blaine presses in closer for strength, and nods once more. He steps back to grab his things, and the two of them head for the door ready to revisit the past.

* * *

Blaine's forgotten how endless Ohio feels.

The peaceful hum surrounding Sebastian's car on the highway is a stark contrast to where they are headed right now, and Blaine is questioning whether or not his parents are on their way too. He hasn't seen them in person since December, and all mental stability aside, physically Blaine's changed quite a bit. His father's going to be proud.

Blaine would have missed the call if Sebastian hadn't threatened to suffocate him for not picking it up. They were both in Puck's room when it started ringing. Sebastian was sitting on Puck's bed and Blaine was playing Mario Kart with some of the boys- he _was _in the lead- until his phone was mashed insensitively into his cheek.

'_-mit Sebastian, I was in first! H-hello?'_

'_May I speak with Blaine Anderson?'_

'_Speaking…'_

After excusing himself from the game, and extending a greeting to the hallway Lima's Police Captain Shannon Bieste had some particularly surprising news to share with him. He cursed to himself; double-checking the caller ID to make sure it wasn't a prank. In the end, she'd invited- well, demanded- him to identify their suspects in a police line up.

The only catch was that he had to return to Lima to do it.

Sebastian, having followed him into the hallway- ignoring the coos coming from within the room- offered immediately to be his chauffer. So here they were, two tongue-tied teenagers on their first 'road trip' with one another.

Not quite together, but definitely not apart.

"Thanks for sharing your bed with me again last night." Blaine comments awkwardly, half aware of his surroundings due to his cyclical thoughts.

"It's not like you take up _that_ much space." Sebastian teases, checking for Blaine's reaction immediately after.

"You're impossible."

"Personally, I enjoyed it." Sebastian smoothes his pants leg with his right hand before returning it to the wheel. "I've missed the company."

"Gee' _thanks_." Blaine responds, remembering the night before, how perfect it had been with Sebastian strewn lazily behind his back as they fell asleep to the sounds of night's forthcomings. The loud winds rushing through their windows sent small ice caped kisses to Blaine's toes, but Blaine had all the warmth he needed within an arm's reach. He had Sebastian.

"I meant _your_ company, stupid."

"Hmm." Blaine ends their banter to look out his window at the passing tracts of land. He can't wait to get out of this state. Maybe when he does Sebastian will come too. Maybe they'll end up in New York or Paris with Sebastian's mom. Maybe even California! Where did Sebastian want to end up, anyway? "Tell me something."

Sebastian stiffens at the request, and looks over at his passengers seat. "Like what?"

"I don't know." Blaine shrugs, completely lax and thoughts thriving in the present. "You know an appalling amount of information about me, and I'm curious about you."

"…I don't know what to say."

Blaine gathers his courage and asks what's been in the back of his mind since their fight. It's stupid and trivial, but Blaine figures he should start small. It's something Sebastian's probably forgotten about by now, but he needs to ask.

"Why didn't you tell me about getting team captain?"

There's still a part of Sebastian that Blaine's been unable to reach, some essential part of him that's been hidden and tucked beneath humor and wit. Blaine wants to know what it is. He wants to start helping Sebastian the way Sebastian's been helping him, intentional or not, but he doesn't know how.

"Blaine that was last month, sweetheart." It's barely been a couple weeks; April just spread its wings, and Sebastian's avoiding the question with dramatics.

Blaine sighs and reaches out to fix an air vent. "I know, but still." He gives Sebastian his best pair of puppy eyes, and turns back towards the disappearing landscape. They've got a three-hour drive ahead of them, and he's going to make damned good use of it.

"I didn't think it was a big deal?"

"If Puck were here, he'd smack you on the head!" Blaine raises his hand in front of him like he's ready to strike, and Sebastian flinches involuntarily. The other catches his reactions and snorts, leaning forward a little to straighten out his spine.

"I don't know. We weren't talking, and I wasn't sure if you were mad at me for rejecting you so-"

It's the second time he's audibly mentioned the kiss, and although Blaine's been 'over' it since they made up, he gets tense as Sebastian speaks.

"Listen, B, I've never been good at this kind of thing. Why do you think I was hooking up with Dane for so long?" He mouths, _'no talking.'_

Blaine gives him a pitiless look, although inside he's thinking hard. Was that it? Was Sebastian so hesitant to reveal himself because no one had ever thought to ask for a revelation in the first place?

Surely _someone _had to have achieved an intimate bond with him. How could they not? Sebastian was… he was _out there_. He was _Sebastian Smythe, _lacrosse captain and lead attack, tall and mysterious, fluent in French, and handsome. _Yes_, very handsome, and those were just the outwardly projected parts.

"It's just talking, Bas. You talk to Puck don't you?" Blaine coaxes, stringing him along.

"Yeah."

"So why is it so hard with me? It's the same thing."

"Because."

Sebastian's staring out at the empty road, he gains a little speed and decelerates as soon a he realizes his foots gone peddle heavy.

"Because?"

Sebastian bites his lip; mimicking the moment he'd held Blaine tight, promising no harm. _I'm close_, Blaine thinks, _getting closer_. The confession is ripe on his tongue, and Blaine can practically feel the tightness roll off Sebastian's body when he says it.

"Because I like you."

Blaine takes it in and fills his lungs with it. It's something that he's obviously inferred, but hearing Sebastian say it out loud turns him into jelly. He picks at his sleeve to stop his body's impulse to bounce, and keeps a straight face. "Good. I like you too."

"Duh, why else would you be in my bed every night?"

"I am _not_!" Blaine feigns offense "And that can stop at any moment."

"No!" Sebastian replies, a little to quickly, and Blaine beams. "Alright, fine." He pauses, face getting serious. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"I don't want to force anything out of you!" Blaine laughs grabbing for the other's side. Sebastian's ticklish, and Blaine knows he can get away with the gesture right now.

Blaine's cycling through every emotion possible before he's forced to adopt the foreseeable self-loathing that waits for him in Lima. It's inevitable that he'll run out of feelings eventually, but he hopes it doesn't happen before they reach the station.

Right now, he's modestly happy.

"Stop! _Stop_!" Sebastian slows down and swats Blaine's hand off. "I want you to." He traps Blaine's hand in his, holding it over the console. "Should we stop for lunch before we get to the station?"

"Yeah, sure."

Blaine leans back and closes his eyes, feeling the humid air press against him from the cracked window. A storm is approaching in the distance, and Blaine can smell the wall of rain that's coming their way. _How appropriate, _he thinks.

"Hey B?" Sebastian asks quietly, pulling to a stop.

"Yeah?"

Silence follows so Blaine opens his eyes and questions Sebastian with a look of concern. Green finds hazel and the other exhales.

"I think you're really brave."

Blaine's heart soars. "Thanks Bas."

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

The two of them drift off in thought at the same time. Blaine imagines that Sebastian's sharing the same sort of daydream. He's still trying to figure out what he would have said 'yes' to, and he wonders when Sebastian's going to ask about it. Until then Blaine anchors himself somewhere between giddy and anxious, and stares out into the oncoming storm.


	15. Chapter 13B

The two of them stop for lunch, and quickly discover they aren't very hungry. As Lima gets closer, Blaine's stomach knots tighter, and his tension is rubbing off on his counterpart. By the time they pull up to the station they're both so edgy that when they finally look at one another the contact is painful to keep.

The storm has reached its destination, and the rain doesn't do much to lift Blaine's spirits. It rattles down against Sebastian's car, tapping out sweet melodies of desperation, and that dreaded self-loathing creeps into the pit of Blaine's stomach. He stamps it out the best he can with his newfound courage, and stares at the large automated doors.

"Ready to put these assholes in jail?"

Blaine swallows. "Yes."

They run to the front of the station avoiding the rain. Why didn't he think to bring an umbrella? Sebastian takes his hands and ruffles them through Blaine's damp curls when they get to the door, and in retaliation Blaine 'accidentally' steps on Sebastian's toes.

It's innocent fun, and the two of them stand motionless- for one last attempt at peace- before they enter the building.

When they walk inside, the first thing Blaine notices is how different everything looks. It's a rude awakening of perception. Colors appear dimmer through red-rimmed eyes and sounds seem much softer under the roar of labored breathing.

All of this seemed duller then, hopeless, and now the surrounding environment keeps Blaine alert, assertive. _I can do this. I can do this._

He signs in and leads Sebastian back towards the waiting area He couldn't sit down if he wanted to, he's to busy encouraging himself not to throw up. Shannon greets them not five minutes later, three files in hand, with Mr. Smythe toeing at her heels.

He double takes when he sees that Sebastian's there too, and Blaine bobs his head in recognition when their eyes meet. Words don't quite fit this situation, but Blaine feels alarmingly complete with such a strong group of avid supporters neighboring him. He's ready for this to be finished, anyhow, and today he's one step closer to achieving that goal.

"Blaine, baby! Oh _Michael_, look at him! Blaine you look so handsome sweetie!"

His mother is suddenly everywhere, appearing straight out of thin air. She rips him from his chair and detains him with a hug, pressing kisses to his forehead while grabbing at his biceps.

It strikes him funny that she doesn't ask how he's doing. She doesn't offer him aid or introduce herself to Sebastian. Instead Catherine stares into his eyes with tears forming in her own, and tells Michael how handsome their son has become.

Blaine has never felt more uncomfortable with his mother in his entire life.

"Catherine, give the boy a break, this isn't the time for that."

It's the first instance that Blaine's been appreciative for his father's controlling attitude. He accidentally flinches when his father pats him on the back, but an odd sense of pride takes over his senses.

For a split second Blaine's world spins, and he pictures himself as the child he was always supposed to be. He's resented his dad since the day he came out, and this small token of support earns a place in Blaine's heart that was left vacant long ago.

Truth be told- and this is hard for Blaine to admit- but ever since the mention of Dalton, Blaine's been grateful to his father. Without having transferred Blaine's sure he wouldn't be where he is now.

He knits his eyebrows in thanksas his dad pries his mother off of his body.

What _would_ his life be like without the Warblers? Without boxing, without his friends and Sebastian...? Mostly Sebastian.

He looks back at the brunette and motions for him to come over. Sebastian diverts his gaze from the locked doors near by and gives Blaine a soothing smile, joining him promptly by his side.

Thunder cracks outside the station windows as he draws near. It lights up the space in a strange demonic way, to similar to Blaine's nightmares, and he ends up jumping out of his skin in surprise.

Sebastian pulls Blaine into his side. "I've got you, B."

Blaine's mother represses a squeal.

She's promptly encouraged to wait in the front.

The group shuffles towards a dark stained door, and Captain Bieste explains the procedure before they enter. First, Blaine will look at a series of photographs, and then he will be brought into a single mirrored room with suspects aligned behind the glass. From there, he identifies, and if his statement matches the other victim's they're in the clear for an arrest.

His heart starts coming to life within him, beating away wildly inside like a caged raven. What if he picks the wrong person? _These guys aren't people, Blaine, they're monsters._

The first hour goes by in a blur.

He sits quietly across from Bieste, accepting photo after photo, and becomes entirely deprived of hope. She carefully picks and passes photos to him from a large manila envelope, but they all look the same. White, _male_, blue eyes, brown eyes, no tattoo…

The photographs are discouraging.

He sees no memorable marks, and as he rearranges each similar face he grows increasingly frustrated knowing that one of these men helped defile him. Nothing hurts him more than knowing he can't tell which one it was.

Blaine feels like he's standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming for help at those who take pleasure in his demise.

Which one stood behind him and beat him with their gun?

Which one laughed at his attempts to escape, pulling on his hair to get off from his tears?

Which one tied him up and left him for dead, bloody and bruised?

Captain Bieste must sense his disappointment. She edges over to him and offers a glass of water. He's told that he can take a break, walk around the station to clear his mind, but Blaine turns down her offer. He wants this over and done with. He's stronger now and he never wants to deal with these men again, until it's absolutely necessary.

He exits the small room with no success at identification, and as he rejoins his family as well as a portion of Sebastian's, he stares silently at the floor.

They all look to Bieste who shakes her head, confirming their lack of success.

"We're bringing the suspects into the line up now. Should be any minute before you can go in. Just remember, take your time, Pumpkin. This is a serious accusation."

Blaine shows his understanding nonverbally because his insides are starting to squirm. For a moment, he thinks that he might pass out from the anxiety, but he knows he can handle worse. Although he wishes he didn't.

"Can we go in there too?" His dad chimes in.

"We'd prefer it if he went in with as little company as possible. Just to avoid distractions," she looks at Blaine who is visibly shaken, "but that should be fine. If he'd like he can bring his friend in too."

Blaine decides Captain Bieste isn't bad.

The space is cold and empty. There are several chairs lined up in the middle of the room, all bundled together, and a giant Plexiglas window separates one see-through wall from their observing minds.

Blaine knows the glass is one sided, but he still feels like he's being watched. Like the men who're about to enter on the other side can get to him just by reaching through an invisible barrier.

He holds his breath, and moves towards the chairs with Sebastian.

Six men shuffle in, all the same height, and _all_ lacking tattoos. One of these men could easily be the second assailant and Blaine would never know it. It lowers his resolve as he tries to remember the earlier photographs. He hopes the other victim is able to serve that man justice, because he's obviously failed to do anything progressive about it.

It's almost too much.

"I don't-" he stutters, "I don't know. I only saw the other one."

The police officer nods, and says something into her walkie-talkie. All of the men shuffle out into another room, some smiling to themselves, and a new group takes their place.

Blaine's distracted watching the police officer, and when he feels Sebastian nudge him he takes the others hand and directs his attention to the new line of men. He scans once and double takes back towards the end. His knees involuntarily twitch.

Gasping, Blaine closes his fingers tighter under Sebastian's palm. Sebastian tries to ask, "Is it-?" but he doesn't get it all out. He remains silent.

Finally Blaine's able to communicate. "It's him."

_There's a knife at his throat, a wicked smile crooked in tandem with the stretch of Blaine's mouth. Blaine closes his eyes and feels a hand slap against his ass. He's dead. He's dying. He's choking. _

_Spit's dribbling out of his orifice, the ragged feel of intrusion dragging painfully in and out behind him makes him queasy. He's dizzy from lack of breath, and there's a 'pop' as the tattooed man pulls out from his throat and comes in stripes across his face, not caring enough to avoid Blaine's eyes. _

_Blaine's whimpering to himself in disbelief between broken sobs. 'God. Oh-oh my god.' Metal makes contact with his head, there's a kick to his ribs, and then "black." _

Blaine snaps out of his daze and notices how tense Sebastian has become. Sebastian mimics Blaine's iconic nose pinch. "Which one is it?"

It's obvious that he's trying to appear collected, but the hatred radiates off of body in waves, and for a second Blaine thinks Sebastian might tear through the glass and beat the guy senseless.

Unsurprisingly, Blaine feels the same. In order to calm himself down he's vows to put the man behind bars, hoping that this evil monster will be served a helping size of the same ill fate life dished him. "Number five."

"…_Bastard_."

The strange thing is, is that number five is an average looking man. If Blaine could erase the tattoo, his mind would never jump to the conclusion of 'rapist.' It's an upsetting idea that anyone can hide behind a smile, and Blaine realizes that's exactly what he'd been doing before he realized he had an emotional support system.

Number five has gray brown eyes, and a tribal tattoo that stretches from the nape of his neck up and around the left side of his face. He's big, built, and Blaine no longer feels weak for failing to escape. No one could get past this man- not even Mr. Smythe- and he has a _gun_.

Blaine raises his voice, wincing when it cracks from lack of use, "It's number five! Number five. Right there! Number five!"

He rushes out of his chair to fast.

The excitement causes his legs to wobble, but before Blaine's able to face plant into the linoleum, Sebastian's dad catches him in one swift movement.

"Easy. _Easy_. C' mere, lets sit you down."

He'd been so caught up in identifying number five that he's missed everyone else's reactions. Detective Smythe allows him to examine the area before they continue speaking, but Blaine can't hear himself think over his mother's wailing.

She'd insisted on coming in too, and she's not helping any by making so much noise. Sebastian's sitting stationary in the middle of the room, murdering number five with his mind, and Blaine's father is holding his wife, oblivious to- or not wanting to acknowledge- Blaine's existence.

"S-sorry." Blaine gathers his composure, and flicks out his wrists.

"Hey." Alan motions with two fingers from Blaine's sightline to his. "You're okay."

_I'm okay. _

He inhales.

_In. Out. In. Out._

_I'll be okay._

Suddenly Blaine can see where Sebastian gets his mannerisms. Adrien had been right in his allegation. Detective Smythe positions himself eye level with Blaine and prepares him for what's coming next. Court dates, testimonies… Blaine stops listening when his brain gets to full.

His eyes start to wonder when he gets lost, and he peers once more through the single sided mirror. Instantly Blaine is frozen to his seat.

Number five is looking directly at him. Okay, not _right _at him. There's no way that number five knows where Blaine is behind the glass, but it creeps him out on all accounts and Mr. Smythe has to physically turn Blaine's head to draw back his lost attention.

"Stay with me, kid."

He asks Blaine how sure he is about the identification, and after Blaine says one hundred percent he calls Sebastian over. The two of them talk privately for a little while before Sebastian strides over to Blaine and offers an escape. "He said we could go."

He reaches down and pauses with his hand on Blaine's cheek, and in that moment Blaine swears Sebastian's about to kiss him. He doesn't though. Instead he stands, hand extended, offering a way out of this terrible place.

Blaine wipes his eyes and ignores his grumbling stomach as he accepts Sebastian's offer. They make up a lie about exams in order to break away from Blaine's parents, and after hitting the restroom and grabbing some chips from a vending machine, they finally exit the station.

Mother nature decides she isn't feeling kind.

There's so much rain.

Another whip of thunder and Blaine decides he never wants to visit Lima again. Sebastian promises that if he does, he won't have to do it alone, and as pleasing as it's been having the taller stay with him throughout his journey, Blaine craves to know why.

What are they?

Friends?

Lovers?

_Roommates_?

They've been driving for thirty minutes when Blaine speaks up, yawning before crafting his speech. "Hey Bas?"

The rain pounds down and encases their moving car. Its patterns are soothing, and Blaine keeps nodding off to its rhythmic taps. It's a far cry from the desperate fallout earlier that evening.

Eventually the other answers, keeping his voice low. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I…" Blaine loses his confidence and trails off. "…Never mind."

More silence.

"Blaine, can I tell you something?"

Blaine's surprised Sebastian's asking, considering his request earlier that morning. He kicks off his shoes and makes himself comfortable, balling up in his seat, and mussing with his weighted curls. Blaine hopes he's not wound up over something insignificant.

"Sure." His eyes are heavy with sleep, but he licks his lips- eager to stay awake- as he waits for Sebastian to spill whatever's on his mind.

"I like you."

Blaine cocks his head through the drowsiness; the balance of being alert and tired at the same time is messing with his demeanor. "Uh. Bas, you already- not that I-"

"-Calm down. Fuck, you're making me nervous, just chill out for a second."

"Sorry…" Blaine apologizes even though he's sure the brunette is at fault for the tension. He slinks lower, blinking hard to avoid lidded eyes.

"Shit, I didn't mean to-" Sebastian advances the windshield wiper settings. "Let me start over." He looks thoughtful, like his head might detonate from all the ideas roaming around in there. "So, I like you, right? You know that. I, uh, _earlier_ when you asked about team captain…"

Sebastian readjusts himself in his seat. Something takes over his expression and controls the silence. It hits Blaine like a fist to the face when he realizes what Sebastian's trying to say, or rather, say _again_.

The words '_I'm afraid_,' echo over and over in his ears, a reminder of all the baggage Blaine's been avoiding between them. He's upset it took him this long to understand what Sebastian had really meant that night.

"I'm not going anywhere, Bas."

Sebastian relaxes, reaching over blindly for Blaine's hand. Like if he weren't touching the other, everything might fade away. Blaine knows Sebastian has a hard time showing affection and being intimate with those whom he actually cares about, and a tiny ache forms in the middle of his chest.

"Please, be patient with me, okay? I want to make," Blaine feels Sebastian's fingers fidget between his, "_this,_ work."

'_This?' _Blaine wants to ask, but he doesn't push it. It's a huge effort on Sebastian's part to share himself like this, and although he's said so little, Blaine knows he's actually said much _much _more.

He surprises Blaine when he admits to another breakthrough.

"…I think I've found myself in you."

Blaine doesn't realize his mouth is hanging open until the silence goes on for to long. Still, Sebastian stares straight ahead, and Blaine can _just _make out the pink rushing to cover his neckline.

Blaine's heart flies to his ribcage and tattoos itself there. Sebastian's sentiment means more to Blaine than he could ever explain. More than anything he could ever imagine, and using the last of his energy Blaine raises his arm and places a lingering kiss to the top of Sebastian's wrist.

He'd been right about there being something hidden underneath, and Blaine feels lucky to be one of the privileged few who've seen it.

"I think I've found myself in you too, Bas."

He means it.

He really _really _means it.

They sit in comfortable silence, and eventually Blaine's nodding off again. His head lulls to the side and snaps up every time he falls asleep, and when Sebastian notices he sighs dreamily to himself, reaching in the back to grab an old balled-up hoodie.

"Here, babe."

Sebastian encourages him to rest, and slips in a CD. As Blaine zones out, the other stares into the warped and empty road, now unfamiliar in the dark. Blaine's emotionally out of it, but he gives Sebastian a sappy look when he hears Buddy Holly sound from his speakers.

'_Everyday it's a gettin' closer_

_Goin' faster than a roller coaster_

_Love like yours will surely come my way_

_A hey, a hey hey'_

There are so many questions he wants to ask the brunette. Does he listen to oldies often? How does he feel about Bryan Ferry? Roxy music?

'_Everyday it's gettin' faster_

_Everyone says go ahead and ask her_

_Love like yours will surely come my way_

_A hey, a hey hey'_

Blaine's battling with sleep, eyes fluttering open and closed with every dip and bump on the highway. His elbow's propped up on the console, and his head is placed awkwardly on top of Sebastian's jacket.

Playing the hero has drained him of any and **all** energy, and when he finally begins losing his struggle with sleep he feels the edges of soft fingertips brush against his temple. _Sebastian's_, he thinks, and he drifts off into space, unaware of _another_ confession- the first of it's kind- that's soon to be exposed.

'_Everyday seems a little longer_

_Every way love's a little stronger_

_Come what may do you ever long for_

_True love from me'_

'_Everyday it's a gettin' closer_

_Goin' faster than a rollercoaster_

_Love like yours will surely come my way_

_A hey, a hey hey'_

'_Everyday seems a little longer_

_Every way love's a little stronger_

_Come what may do you ever long for_

_True love from me'_

'_Everyday it's a gettin' closer_

_Goin' faster than a rollercoaster_

_Love like yours will surely come my way_

_A hey, a hey hey'_

'_Love like yours will surely come my way'_

The tracks change; Blaine's breathing at a steady periodic pace. It's slow, natural, and everything about this boy- Sebastian decides- is beautiful. The way his eyelashes fan out, soft and dark across the tops of his cheeks. The way his lips part and teeth peak out from behind the edges of his lips. Even the tiny noises he makes, unaware in his deep sleep, make Sebastian feel funny.

He's tried for months to figure out what he's been feeling, and after lots of soul searching; Sebastian's pieced it together. He glances over at the balled up frame of a boy with messy hair and picture perfect eyes, and in the tiniest voice possible Sebastian says something he's never let himself believe in before.

"_I think I might be in love you, B."_

Blaine doesn't respond, he's already joined ranks with his subconscious, but the fact that it's out there is all the comfort that Sebastian needs. He looks out, back into the black of night, and for once he can see something bright in his future.

Hopefully he'll manage to hold onto it this time.


End file.
